decisions, decisions

Yesterday, I bought my plane ticket for Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I leave this Sunday! I contemplated whether or not I would arrive by plane or by train, and in the end, I decided a plane would be best, so I could have more time to be with the people I love.

And just as I was putting the final touches to my soon-to-be new life, another life was just ending. No sooner had I just finished reading my itenerary, then my grandma called. Someone close to our family had died. The lady that raised her step-brothers (my mom's step-uncles) had a stroke and died.

My grandma was in tears, and along with her broken English, it made it nearly impossible to understand her. But my aunts called soon after and that's when I learned an emergency family trip was being planned to El Paso, Texas for a weekend memorial/funeral service.

I only met the deceased once, when I was a mere child, so I don't have any memories of her. But now? Now that she's taking my family away from me to be with her, on my last weekend in Tucson? Well...one thing's for sure. I will remember this weekend for years to come.

I have until this evening to decide if I'm gonna stay in Tucson until Sunday or leave with my family to Texas and take a plane there to Milwaukee...

And just in case, any of you wondering, this is the current temperature in my new home.

goodbye home, hello unknown

The other day, I received a letter from my dad. I had spoken to him the day before, so it was a bit of a surprise to "hear" from again so soon. But it was a good surprise. Especially since he wrote me something, I needed to hear:

"It seems like you were always independent. Me and your mom gave you all the space you needed and tried to support you with your events that you enjoyed to do. David, me and your mom will always try to be there for you and will always love you. We want you to be happy whatever you may go on to do, just be careful in your choices."

Soon after I read the letter, my mom came home from work and told me that seeing me pack up all my belongings with total confidence gave her peace and comfort that I will be alright in a new city, all by myself. It was completely out of the blue and unexpected, but it's what I needed.

It hasn't phased me that in a few days time I will be leaving to Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I'm leaving everything and everyone I know to live a life of unknowns. It's a little weird. And truth be told? I'm a little scared. I've never done anything like this before and I still do wonder if I'm doing the right thing or making the biggest regret of my life. But it's that little doubt in my head, that keeps me going and doing what I'm doing. My bags are packed, I'm ready to go. And luckily, my first unemployment check just came in. All I have to do now is decide on a date of when I want to move in, just so long as it's between next Saturday and February 15, when the store opens. After that, it's goodbye home, hello unknown!

the move

Since the beginning of time, there comes a moment that has been repeated in all species of the animal kingdom. That moment when the fledgling tries it's wings and flies away from the nest. In all corners of the globe, though the destination of the fledgling may be different, the scene and the motivation is the same: independence.

And that's exactly why I have been packing up my stuff for the past few days. Independence. So, it looks like I will be leaving Tucson and start a new life in Milwaukee, Wisconsin as a clothing buyer for a new store. And it hasn't been easy. But not for reasons, you may believe.

My mother has decided to go on a non-stop rampage to try and stop me from going to Milwaukee. Like, the other day, for example: I was packing up a box with all my personal belongings and was just finishing with the first layer of packing tape, when all of a sudden my mother freaks out about the tape I was using.

"What are you doing?! You're using very expensive carpet tape to tape your boxes?! No! Absolutely not! That tape is very expensive and very hard to find! No, I am sorry, but, you cannot use any more!"

Who knew we had priceless, expensive tape laying around in our house? Priceless tape that could not be purchased just at an ol' carpet store, you know? And I couldn't just go out and buy tape, since I am still broke and I am still waiting for my unemployment check to kick in, which has been really hard to get, since Alice, my boss, has been very uncooperative. My mother said was an obvious sign that I probably shouldn't move. If I can't afford tape, how can I afford life in another city?

The other day, she asked me if my future boss knew I wasn't a good worker. Yeah. Just like that: "Does your boss know you're not a good worker?"

I asked her what she meant by that, and apparently, she doesn't think I go the extra mile in my work. That I don't perform at an exceletory level. Ok, so "exceletory" isn't a real word, but the point still stands. She wasn't basing her bias opinion on my job performance at work. She was basing it on the work I do at home, which apparently isn't top-notch. At least, by her standards.

She's even told me, that once I'm gone she's converting my room into a family room, by knocking down the wall that's connected to the living room. More open space, as she calls it. More open space? That's what my room will be when I'm gone? Space?! Once my brother got word of her ideas, he started arguing with her claiming he was gonna make my bedroom, his, since he was the second to oldest. Then, my younger brother went off about how he was promised the bigger room when we moved again, and since I was moving, the promise still counted. My bed isn't even cold and the memory foam mattress still has my ass print on it, and already my family is fighting over my room.

Granted, it is a desirable room, because it used to be a dining room when we first moved into the house, and nobody wanted the room because it wasn't a typical "bedroom" and it had tile, not carpet, which made it less homely. Since, I was the last one to see the house, I didn't get dibs on any of the bedrooms, so I got stuck with it. And since that time, I've transformed it into a small studio apartment of sorts. I put in bookcases, a desk with a hutch, an armoir, a whole seating area with a club chairs and a big sleigh bed right in the middle. And now everyone wants it and soon every memory of me in that room will be just that - a memory.

In some twisted, demented, and deluded way, this is probably my family's way of making me give Milwaukee a second thought and to keep me from going. Especially my mother's idea. But I couldn't let her stop me. My mind was set. In fact, it's been set since December 24. That was the day I got an email with my results from the oral interview I had with the Records Specialists at the Police Department. Before opening the email, I knew I had to make a decision soon. And I chose Milwaukee. Something in my heart told me Milwaukee was for me. That it was this giant waiting room, where I had to put in my time and soon enough my name would be called and I would go on to do bigger and better things.

That's why I never opened the email. I didn't want it to make me second guess my decision. Because if I opened up that email and it said I had passed my interview and would move on to the next level, my head would battle my heart and tell me to go and I would still be no closer to coming to a decision. But now that I was at a decision, my mother was not making it any easier on me.

Is this normal parent-child behavior? I've never done this before, moving out and living on my own, and I always had this image in my head that when the time came, it would be a family-type event where everyone would help and pack and everything would be done in a few hours. Do parents really make the moving process difficult on their children?

we are a family

It came, it saw, it conquered, and before any of us knew it, Christmas was gone faster than a Keanu Reeves movie in theaters. But this year, Christmas didn't feel the same. As some of you may or may not know, my dad is currently serving a six-week tour in Iraq, which made this year's holiday season kinda... well, blah. I hardly ever ever see my dad since he's always working and my work and school schedules always seem to clash with my family's schedules. But now that I'm not working and am always home, it's weird seeing everyone in my family at various points in the day on a daily basis. Everyone, but my dad. We didn't even read the Nativity Story on Christmas Eve which is something my dad has always done, ever since I can remember. He should be back within a couple of weeks, but until then, life at home is kinda...well, blah.

On a lighter side, even though I may not have had a dad for Christmas, I did get two new step-cousins! A while back, I mentioned that my cousin Karina from San Diego had found her biological father, a policeman, who was standing on the same corner as her, waiting for the light to turn green. I don't know if it was fate that they met, but it was a prayer answered. All her life Karina had wanted brothers. I think that's why she always loved me and my brothers the most out of anyone in our family. Her mother did eventually marry someone, a lawyer from Brooklyn, who's financial advice was as bad as his pleather clothes, but all Karina got out of that marriage was a baby sister. Her mom, on the other hand, got a divorce. So, the dream of having brothers passed and life went on. Until her dad introduced her to his two sons.

She had brothers now! Marc, 23 and Raymond, 22. Raymond was older than Karina by just two months and as it turns out, they all grew up within 15-20 minutes of each other, never realizing it. Raymond and Karina attended rival high schools, so they saw each other at football games and bonfire beach parties, but never actually met. Now, they were hanging out every weekend, bonding and forging a relationship, trying to piece together parts of their family puzzle. It hasn't been a pretty puzzle (they found out, they may have a sister in Florida who looks like Karina), but it's their family puzzle.


Marc and Raymond came down this past weekend with Karina and it was fun hanging out with them, eating chicken wings, watching football games, getting drunk and going to the casinos. I never had guy cousins I could do that with. The only guy cousins I have that are close to my age live in Washington, but I haven't seen them in over 10 years. And even when I did see them, they were no fun, since they are really narcissistic and bragged about how they were gonna be the next hot model/movie star/singer, despite their lack of height, severe acne and tone-deaf ears. So, having Marc and Raymond around for a couple of days was fun, and it actually made time go by faster and helped me forget my dad was somewhere far away in a whole other world. Who knew family was the answer to your problems? Usually, they seem to be the problem, that I'm looking for an answer to. What a nice change.

'twas the blog post before christmas

Merry Christmas everyone! From my family to yours, have a safe and happy holiday and a terrific new year!

it takes a minute to think

Among the many glamorous, burger-flipping jobs I've applied for, one of them was working for the city as a Police Records Specialist. I only applied because they were looking and my wallet was empty, which seemed like the perfect match at the time. When they didn't get in contact with me after a few days, I moved on, thinking somewhere out there, a polyester-cotton blend uniform had my name on it.

A couple of weeks later, I got an email, inviting me to fill out and complete a pre-screening questionaire, so I did. And then I got invited to take a written exam at the Police Station. It was there that I learned that 181 people applied for the same job. 20 of them did not meet the qualifications and 65 of them did not return the pre-screening questionaire. 12 were temporarily disqualified and two permantently disqualified. 10 people withdrew, leaving a total of 72 people to take the test. I was in a room with 71 competitors, all wanting a chance to fill the four posisitions that were available.

Later that day, after completing the test, I received an email with the results of my test:

Congratulations, you have successfully passed the written exam for Police Records Specialist. You achieved a raw score of 143.00 correct out of 161 questions. The next step in this recruitment process is an Oral Board Interview.

It was like American Idol, only no talent required. Unless you count answering questions right a talent. And I was one of the lucky ones "going to Hollywood". So, I attended the interview without really thinking about the job or where my life could be /would be headed if I got it. And it was with that thinking that I actually had a good interview. No sweating, no stuttering, no shaking, no shitting! After the interview, I then realized I actually had a real good chance of scoring this job. A real good chance. I could actually be working for the city, working one of those jobs where I would have a desk, a computer and maybe one of those coffee cups with a funky saying like, "I'm Not A Morning Person". The only thing is, I wouldn't be starting until February. Which is when that that job in Milwaukee starts.

Leaving me with the life-changing question: Do I stay in Tucson and continue with the job recruitment process, which will undoubtedly be a secure and stable job or do I leave to Wisconsin and forge into the unknown, and follow my dreams? Not that Milwaukee holds the key to all my dreams, but I do think it is a waiting room for my dreams.

And while I make my decision, at least I have this great inspirational video to help inspire me in the meantime.

the letter

As most of you already know, for the past couple of months I've been in a struggling battle with my old boss, Alice, over un-cashed paychecks and it's not exactly a pretty thing. I've had to constantly call her to find out the status of the allegedly "struggling shop" and whether or not I can get paid. Not once has she made any effort to get in touch with me. That is, until this past Wednesday, when I received an email from Alice.

Hi David.

I don't have your home phone and want to give you some money. It's not much, but its a start. I have $60 cash for you today. I can deposit it for you. Also, which checks do you have? I have 2 here I think. Both for $231.03 each. As I keep selling things here and keep getting umc checks I'll be able to get you paid. I can pay you faster with any of the sales made here but it will be in small amounts.

I am sorry it is taking so long. Unfortunately we were not sellling enough the last few months and there was alot more money going out than coming in. I'm still negative each week, and am still playing catch up.(Even the shop phone is partly off - it goes straight to voicemail only!) But I really appreciate all the support you gave me, David, over the last couple years in trying to make the shop work. I've had way too much family drama that I ever could even image. I am sad the flower part of the store is closing but glad in a way to try to get out of the hole the flowers were putting me in. It was too stressful physically and emotionally. And I truley apprieciate your patience. I owe you more than just money...

By the way, I'm still getting tickets for Broadway shows if you want any......

I was planning on filing a small claims suit against her for all the owed money, but after receiving the email, I don't know what to think. To me, it seems like it's just too little, too late. Don't get me wrong. I'm glad she finally made the effort to get in touch with me, but I don't understand why it took so long.

Alice's husband's trial date is coming up and it will be decided then, if he is innocent in the double homicide he was allegedly involved with. If he isn't, it's more time in prison. If he is innocent, it's very likely, he will never work again, since writing "alleged double homicide" in the felony section of a job application is something most hiring managers just don't overlook. Which means Alice will be the primary income for her family and with the shop the way it is...it doesn't look good for her family. And with Christmas just a mere few days away...is this email something I can overlook?

to knit or knot?

It's been about seven weeks since I've last worked and not to complain or anything, but if anyone has a gun laying around that I can shoot myself with, I would really appreciate it.

I can't get a job for the life of me, either because I'm way too over qualified, I don't have the right amount of experience needed, or because I dress better than the hiring manager. Seriously, one of them kept asking me where I got each article of clothing and then proceeded to tell me what color they would have gotten it in and how they would have paired it with something else.

I filed for unemployment but that takes forever to kick in and I can't even file a small claims against my boss since it actually costs money to file it. Who knew it cost money to sue someone for money? Which makes me wonder how much money those people who file frivolous lawsuits have laying around.

My friend Maria heard my cries of plea and decided to pay me a visit. Only, she didn't come alone. She came with a ball of yarn and plastic sticks. Knitting needles, to be more precise.

I held the yarn and needles in my hands with as much enthusiasm and confusion as an Aboriginee looking at a blender. What was I supposed to do with it? Did she literally think I would knit?

"It's knitting needles," she said, obviously referring to the fact that I was still holding the yarn and needles like they had been dipped in radioactive goo. "I've just gotten into the whole knitting thing and it's really fun! It's helped me through studying so much because it's such a great stress reducer."

Stress reducer? More like stress inducer. Especially if you don't know how to knit. Maria tried to teach me how to knit with a little poem about sheep but it was useless because my hands we're not built to knit rows and rows of yarn. I mean, what's the point of knitting? With all the technological advances we've made to dress stylishly and comfortably, do we really need to make our own clothes and accessories out of yarn? And if so, can't we just wait for a line to come out at The Gap?

I don't know. Maybe I am too rash. What do you think? Should I give this knitting thing a shot? Does knitting really reduce stress?

songs for the season

It's December! The start of one of my favorite months! Our Christmas tree has been up since Halloween, so the platinum bells have been ringing for a while in our house. And with that in mind, I thought, for those of you who are not yet in the Holiday Spirit, I'd share with you 25 FREE downloads of my favorite Christmas songs for you and your loved ones to enjoy!


1. Faith Hill - Joy To The World!

2. Kristin Chenoweth - Do You Hear What I Hear?

3. Amy Grant - O' Come All Ye Faithful

4. Dean Martin and Martina McBride - Baby, It's Cold Outside

5. Tony Bennett - I'll Be Home For Christmas

6. Bing Crosby - Happy Holidays (Beef Wellington Remix)

7. Big Bad Voodoo Daddy - Mr. Heatmiser

8. Kay Starr - I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm (Stuhr Remix)

9. Bette Midler and Johnny Mathis - Winter Wonderland/Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

10. Carrie Underwood - O' Holy Night

11. Michael Bublé - White Christmas

12. Burl Ives - Silver and Gold

13. Goldfrapp - Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer

14. Fountains of Wayne - Valley Winter Song

15. Harry Connick Jr. - The Christmas Waltz

16. Brian Setzer Orchestra - The Nutcracker Suite

17. Ella Fitzgerald - Sleigh Ride

18. Britney Spears - My Only Wish (This Year)

19. Taylor Swift - Last Christmas

20. Disneyland's Country Bear Christmas Special - Christmas Medley

21. John Denver & The Muppets - Twelve Days of Christmas

22. K.T. Tunstall - Mele Kalikimaka (Hawaiian Christmas)

23. Celine Dion - The Magic of Christmas

24. Josh Groban - Silent Night

25. Kristin Chenoweth - The Lord's Prayer

thanks

It's Thanksgiving! I love Thanksgiving. Have you noticed this Holiday doesn't get as much hoopla as most holidays? It's because it isn't controversial! It is simply a day to give Thanks and celebrate with friends and family. Unless, of course, you're in my family.

Because my dad is leaving to Iraq for a six week tour starting tomorrow, our family has had some early Thanksgiving dinners. And at each one, people were left more disappointed than thankful.

At the first dinner, all seemed well. My cousin Karina, had taken the week off of school, flew in from San Diego and graced us not only with her presence, but with some shocking news as well. She had found her dad. What's weird about the whole thing is, she wasn't even looking for him. She was waiting at an intersection with a friend, when a policeman asked her if her name was Maria. It wasn't, but she told him her grandma's name was. And then she told him, her grandma lived in Tucson. Two and two were put together and after Karina revealed her mother's name, the policeman said, "I'm your dad."

Since finding her father, Karina has been spending a lot of time with her dad, which really stuck in her mother's craw. Which is understandable since Karina's dad left her and her mom when Karina was just a baby. No word or any sign of notice, just gone. Here one day, gone the next, leaving my aunt and cousin to fend for themselves.

And if one surprise wasn't hard to swallow, me leaving to Milwuakee, was just as hard. I thought my mom had told everybody, but I guess not. There were a few cheers, mostly jeers, all followed by tears. I couldn't possibly think about leaving Tucson. Who would say all the lame jokes and tell the bizarre stories? I didn't have an answer to any of these questions and for a brief moment, I felt sorta bad for leaving. My family did have a few points. What did I know about shopping for food or paying a utility bill? Sure, I could order decent take out, but was that enough to survive on my own?

These questions were nothing new, but I'll admit they were questions I never really gave a second thought to. I think I just got caught up in the aspect of moving and starting a whole new adventure.

On top of it all, I was actually honest with my cousin, when he asked me how I felt about his girlfriend Tori, which he did not take too kindly. I told him she was a name dropper. And a pathetic one at that.

"My mom only shops at Macy's. Our entire home is decorated like a Macy's Christmas catalog."

and

"I buy all my jewelry and accessories at Urban Outfitters. Everything else looks so gaudy."

Some family members found her cute and endearing, but I just found her boring, with her upper-middle-class, brand name dropping. So, I ignored her throughout the day. Which is when my cousin decided to ask me about her. I thought he was looking for some encouragement to dump her. If I had known the truth, I would have lied. Because that's what family does. No one wants to hear about deadbeat dads or moving away or your true feelings towards the girl you just moved in with. No. Thanksgiving is a time for giving thanks and that's all. Everything else should be taken with the adult approach of mutual delusion and complete and utter denial.

I'm thankful, none of my family knows that.

patience

I called my boss Alice yesterday to try and resolve the issue of unpaid paychecks, only to discover she was traveling to Phoenix to go...shopping. SHOPPING! Ugh! And all she could say was patience was the key to resolving all our issues. Fuck patience, I felt like telling her. I wanted to scream at her. She knows I need my money and she has money, but like a non-organ donor, she's been relentless to let it go.

So I hung up with her. She was on the freeway and all I needed on my conscience was to know she got in an accident with her children in the backseat. So, I called up the Board of Labor and the unemployment office, only to discover it takes weeks to file everything. And to make things worse, at the bottom of the claim, near my signature it states in black and white:

"I UNDERSTAND that acceptance of this claim by the Labor Department does not guarantee collection."

So, even if I do file a claim, it doesn't mean she has to pay me. And if she received the claim, it would only upset her more, which means there's a less likely chance she will pay me. So, now, it's nothing but a waiting game. It's all I can do at this point. And it sucks because I feel like one of those damn damsels in distress. I'm here at home all by myself with an animal sidekick (my puppy), my hair is growing longer and out of control and my wicked witch (more like bitch) of a boss seems to be gaining more and more power rather than losing it.

Proving once again, a soft heart will only hold you back in the real world. You can't just be nice. Nice guys always finish last. But don't nice people occasionally succeed? People like Jimmy Carter and Audrey Hepburn? Or what about Mr. Rogers? But then again, his ratings were never that high.

raving & ranting

Last Thursday, they turned my iPhone off. It probably has something to do with the fact that I haven't paid my bill in over two months, but who can really tell about these things? All I know is that I feel as if I've lost a part of me. A part of me that I can still sometimes feel. The way an amputee can sometimes still feel their lost limb.

It'll turn back on soon, I have faith in that, but in the meanwhile...it's made me realize how dependent I've become on this 4.5 inch multi-communication device. And to think a decade ago, I was okay without having to know who e-mailed me or who called me.

That's why I LOVE this rant!

the flyer

It's been over two weeks and my boss Alice still hasn't made any effort to make contact with me. No text. No phone call. No email. Not even snail mail. Nothing. Then, my co-worker, Amanda, who hasn't worked since the last Monday in October, made a trip to the flower shop to talk to Alice about her paycheck. The shop was closed and in its place was a flyer:



Something is definitely shady. Something needs to be done. Something like...legal action.

change

I was at the gym, when it was announced that America's votes had been tallied, and Barack Obama was presented as our future, historically significant, President. And as he took the stage with his historic future First Family, I started thinking about change. If most Americans were open to the idea that a man from a culturally mixed background could be president and were ready for a great change, then so could I. Except, this time, I would change myself.

The year of 2008 has been a really eventful one for me. It started off as really good and I thought things would only get better. I had a great job. Two, great jobs, in fact. One of which allowed me to attend some of the best and most sought-after events, nightclubs, parties and affairs in Tucson. I never got caught up in the glitz or the glamour of it all, since I knew most of the golden carriages and golden people I had seen and met would turn into pumpkins and mice at the end of the night. Still, I had fun and I even got to share that fun with my family and friends.


I had taken my first world tour and left the small U.S. region of the southwest to cross the Atlantic and into Europe. I was in Italy, the birthplace of pizza and Prada. I got to see priceless works of art and taste unbelievably delicious food. I had never experienced such a beautiful country with a beautiful culture and it made me want to explore other regions of the world and absorb as much as I possibly could.


I met a lot of new people and made a lot of new friends this year. I even got to spend time cultivating some of those friendships and learned a lot about myself along the way. I had no idea I liked beer! The best part was that Lucy, my pride and joy, had actually survived a year with me, which was a miracle considering every living thing (including plants, birds, and that one time I had to babysit) I took under my wing before, became physically and/or emotionally damaged (don't worry...the kid wasn't that damaged when I returned her and eventually her hair did grow back). I had actually been able to take care and love another living thing without hurting it or destroying it.


But then, before I knew it things changed. The magazine went bankrupt and there went my front-of-the-line-VIP-access pass. A carton of milk had more shelf-life than my career as a writer. I don't even know if it can be considered "experience," since the only thing I learned from it was the delicate art of schmoozing. I didn't get paid for any of my stories because I was told the magazine was "still getting everything sorted out," which apparently is code for, "write as much as you can, while I rob you blind." Talk about the phrase, "fool me once..." And though I'm upset about the money, I'm more upset about my next scheduled story never seeing the light of day. It was supposed to be about making downtown the "IT" place to be and it was my chance to help change the culture of my generation and the future of our city. And next to my article was going to be a picture of my name in lights on the marquee of the historic Fox Theatre. Which, is a little vain, I'll admit, but it would have been exciting, nonetheless.


And if having a job that didn't pay you, wasn't bad enough, having another job do the same is just as bad. As bad as having to poop right after you take a shower. I thought my job at the flower shop was stable, but after trying to cash in a bounced paycheck, I'm guessing not. Fool me, twice. It's been about three unpaid paychecks and two weeks since I've spoken to my boss Alice. In one low swoop, she single-handedly ruined my credit, my birthday, Halloween, Elton John, and Las Vegas. I'll never be able to look at any of those things ever again, without thinking negatively about Alice. I really did try to keep an open mind and try to be patient and understanding with her, but all the facts point to her mis-using sale money for her own selfish needs like sushi dinners and Girl Scout fees. I do understand that this year hasn't been easy for her, but to take advantage of a loyal employee is beyond disgusting. It's really made me question not only the relationship of our professional lives, but the relationship of our friendship, as well. And the thing I hate the most is that it's made me bitter, affecting everyone around me.

My friends flew back in from Vegas on Monday and I haven't been able to talk any of them. There's an air of awkwardness between us, because, no matter how much I want to hear about what happened in Vegas, a part of me doesn't want to know, since it's a painful reminder of what I missed out. It's not every day you're allowed the chance to see drunken D-list celebrities up close and personal. Up until the very last moment, I had hope in my boss, that she would somehow see the error in her ways and somehow find extra cash to give to me to take to Vegas. But hope never came, and an already paid plane ticket and concert ticket sat unused. Alice never contacted me. Well, unless you count that lame text she sent me to try and make up for it.


And it was there, working out on a full body core machine, that I realized if I didn't change, I would just become more and more bitter. So, I've started looking for another job. I was able to send out an email to one friend without it being weird. And according to a lawyer, they agreed to represent me if I should decide to file a lawsuit against my boss for unpaid wages. Yikes. I don't know if I want to take it that far yet, but at least I'm heading in the right direction.

day of the dread

Today, I was supposed to be on an early morning to the City of Lights; the U.S. version, not Paris. I'm talking about Las Vegas. I'm supposed to be there, right now, celebrating my birthday with my friends. They're there, but I'm not. I'm here. Stuck in Tucson, with packed luggage. Stuck in Tucson, with the hope that by some chance, a miracle would occur. Stuck in Tucson, with absolutely no money, a frozen bank account from a bounced paycheck, and an unpaid bill that has found its way to a collections agency. I couldn't let my situation stop my friends from having fun, since this was their vacation too, so they flew off...off into a weekend of unforgettable shenanigans. It's a situation I never thought I would find myself in. I never thought my life would ever reach such a financial low. And I know I can't rely on anyone to bail me out, since I'll probably end up more in debt owing someone for a problem I got myself into. I just have to pull myself out of this disastrous funk.

I just wish I knew how...

the pushover

It's official! I'm moving to Milwuakee, at the beginning of next year! As I type, a two-bedroom apartment is currently being found for me and my friend Gwen, who will accompany me on this move. She will be the manager and I will be the clothing buyer for a new store. It's all still very new, but very exciting. The only thing is...I've told everyone but my boss, Alice.

Things have been kinda tense at the shop, lately. This Friday will mark the fourth paycheck that I have not received from her. That's not even counting the two un-cashed paychecks I have at home from earlier this year. I don't know what's going on with her or her money managing skills, but she keeps telling me that when everything clears, I will be paid in full, along with any late fees I inccur. It sucks when your manager is your friend, because lines become crossed and what should be an easy answer or solution to a problem, well, it isn't.

I like to think of myself as the kind of person who has faith in people, no matter what, believing that somehow the good will always overcome the bad, in all and every situation. And I'm a very supportive person, which is one of the reason's I've stuck around. I knew my boss Alice would be going through a hard time, after her husband landed in jail and she was several months pregnant, but I never thought I would regret my decision so much.

It's made me lose respect for her, and even worse, it's made me lose respect for myself.

that's what you get for partying up in vegas

As some of you may or may not know, last Monday was my birthday. Twenty-friggin-three years old! God. Practically, middle-aged. And it was actually one of my first birthdays that I didn't freak out over. Usually, when I get older, I can feel it, emotionally and physically. But this past one...well, it kinda just swept over me. No biggie. Maybe it was because I don't look like I'm in my 20's, that I didn't freak out. Or maybe it's because I didn't celebrate my birthday.

This year, I chose not to celebrate my birthday, until the end of the month. The reason? I'm going to Vegas!

It all started a couple months back, when my friend Hadassah and I were on our way to a party and that Elton John song, Tiny Dancer, came on the radio. I casually mentioned that someday, I would love to see him in concert. I knew all his songs, since I grew up listening to classic hits of the 50's, 60's, and 70's, thanks to my dad, and to see a living legend like Elton would be just beyond awesome. Hadassah, remembered that little piece of information and gave me two tickets to see Elton in Las Vegas for Halloween. I was so ecstatic!

From then on, a motion was set forth to carry out a party held in my honor in the city of lights and sin. Halloween weekend would be my new birthday. There would be Elton, dinner at Tao, dancing at Pure, and a guarantee run-in with at least a costumed celebrity or two! And though it all seems to be coming together, one part of my plan seems to be falling apart.

Originally, I decided to get a suite at the MGM Grand Hotel. But as more people decided to come, a condo seemed like the best thing. I found a listing online using Craigslist. The ad listed a three-bedroom condo, behind the Flamingo Hotel for $100 a weekend night and $50 a weekday night, which made our four day, three night trip come out to a grand total of $250, taxes and all included. It was almost too good to be true. At such a ganga of a deal, I immediately contacted the seller and we arranged payment through Paypal. Everything seemed to be fine, until about two weeks ago, when I tried contacting the seller to ask him more questions. He was unresponsive.

I left voicemails, emails, and if we still used telegrams, I would've sent him one too! But nothing. I was constantly checking my iPhone to make sure any and all voicemails/emails were still coming through. They were, but his wasn't. And just as I was coming to the realization that I may have been scammed and that I would have to start looking for another place to stay, the seller called me, this past Friday. He explained he was at the airport and had to leave on an emergency trip and apologized for any inconvenience he bestowed upon me and my "Las Vegas birthday entourage" (his words, not mine). He had been extremely busy and had absolutely no time to get in contact with anyone but he assured me our reservation was still active and that he had placed in the mail, a room key and brochure, along with any information I would need during our stay. It relaxed me just a little bit, but just a little bit.

I still haven't received anything in the mail and although yesterday was a holiday and no one in the U.S. got their mail, I'm not sure whether or not I should remain freaked out...

the bad news week

So, you know when you get bad news and you think, nothing can top this? I totally wasn't even thinking that thought when I got my bad news, but somehow, I just kept getting more.

It started when I found out Azten, my boss's husband who's been in jail since March for possibly being involved in a double homicide after a drug deal gone wrong, received a letter in the mail that had my name and birthdate on it under the subtopic of OTHER CHARACTERS. I was now an official witness in Azten's trial case.

Apparently, one of the defenses is that Azten was working at the flower shop on the day the murder happened and I was the only one who saw him at the time of the murder. There's security camera footage, from the building that I work in, that shows me answering the phone, going outside and bringing in a large package. What was in the box and who delivered it to me? Hell, if I remember! But I do know it wasn't filled with drugs or a dead body. At least, I think so. I can't remember. The camera didn't show who or what dropped off the package but Azten claims it was him.

On top of having a life or life sentence decision hanging over the top of my head like a gloomy bad day rain cloud, I also found out my services were no longer needed at 520 Living Magazine, the magazine I wrote for. I had spent the better part of the month trying to get in contact with someone at the magazine, to figure out if we had any upcoming meetings for story ideas and when I would be receiving a paycheck for the last two stories I wrote. Finally, an answer came. It was Freddie, the art director.

Larry, the publisher and the guy who personally hired me, failed to come up with the money to publish the summer issue. He only managed to have enough for twenty copies, which he had planned to use as an example show future advertisers. Being that the first day of Autumn has just passed, I have no idea what an advertiser would see in a summer issue that never came out. On top of not being able to print out the summer issue, writers weren't paid. Neither were the photographers or anyone else that worked for the magazine. What happened to the money from the past advertisers? I have no idea. What happened to Larry? Well, he now works as the assistant manager at a Lowe's Hardware store.

A class action lawsuit is being filed against Larry and Dollarworks Publications, and though I know I should join my fellow writers and staff against the unfair treatment, I doubt any of us will ever see a single cent. So, is it even worth it?

But the biggest bad news I got this week was when I found out my friend Hadassah refused to put in a good word for me towards a job I really want. As some of you may know, Gwen, the coffee manager across our little flower shop is leaving in mid-December to be the manager of a clothing store in Milwuakee. The store would be owned by the sister of her current boss, Mike Lightyear, and Gwen personally suggested me as the clothing buyer based on my own personal style alone. It would be a fantastic opportunity, which would only be better if Mike Lightyear's secretary and right-hand man, my friend Hadassah, would give a recommendation. Except, she doesn't want to.

Hadassah has been coming up with the lamest excuses, like, my services are needed at the coffee shop to create new items for the menu or to write the menu on the chalkboard with my "perfect" penmanship. Okay, I'll admit, I've created a couple new sandwiches by suggesting some ingredient changes and my "R's" are kinda cool, but still! That shouldn't be the reason that keeps me from a great job opportunity. And I know that her excuses are to keep me from leaving Tucson, but shouldn't a friend help support another friend, rather than keep them in town for their own selfish reasons?

the anniversary party

Once upon a time, many years ago (25 years, to be exact) a prince followed his heart and married a young maiden, despite his family objections.

No one from the prince's family believed the prince's marriage would last, until one day, his beautiful princess bride revealed she was with child. A little baby boy named David was born. He was an absolute joy and the most absolute perfect baby of all time.


In fact, it's been said, that his magical smile and unforgettable laughter helped smooth out the strained relationship between both his parent's families, allowing them to live in peace. Who knew, his powers of charm would be needed once again?

The anniversary party began almost a week ago, as my entire family cleaned and decorated our entire backyard and prepared the food for the anniversary party this past Sunday.

Drama had already begun, when my mother had to tell last minute RSVP-ers that they could not come, since this was a formal sit-down dinner with only so much seating and so much food. One of the people most upset, was my Tia Marie.


She had invited all our family from Texas and was super pissed when my mom had to tell her to dis-invite family. In fact, she sat throughout the entire dinner with her arms crossed, claiming she wasn't hungry or thirsty. Talk about being an over-grown brat!

Then there was the issue with the party coordinator. She felt that the head table had to be special and stand out, so she used a cotton candy pink and white striped tablecloth. Sure, it was a garden party, but aren't candy-looking tablecloth better for a circus than an anniversary?

At least, that's what my Tia Daisy thought. She and the coordinator had a big verbal fight over what the head table should look like, and it wasn't until I suggested we move the odd-looking table to the middle, which would change the head table but still keep the weird tablecloth, that peace was restored in our backyard.


I don't know what the hell the coordinator was thinking when she suggested the ugly tablecloth, and I felt bad that the servers my mother hired had to deal with her for the next few hours. According to them, she was a monster inside our kitchen walls.

The hours devours were not allowed to be served until a certain time, which meant guests that arrived early, would have to sit around outside and wait. The appetizers waited for so long, they ended up getting soggy and messy, which ruined the first hour of the party.

That and the unexpected guests.


People brought their dogs. Which wouldn't have been a pain, but they weren't even cute dogs and they weren't even trained to be still or quiet.

The mariachi band we hired arrived late and didn't know the words to some of classic songs.

And our little old German lady neighbor gave the oddest toast: "Here's to Mike and Ruthy and another 25 years. Well, ten, actually, since that's when our Savior comes back to earth."

I did my best to try and keep the party easy and laid-back by helping serve the drinks and food, start conversations between friends and family and being an all-aroun-charming-go-to type of guy. It wasn't my job, but I knew it had to be done. All in all, we really should have stuck with our original plan: a trip to Hawaii, with my parent's renewing their vows at sunset at the beach. Because, the more you try to make something perfect, the more un-perfect it becomes. My mom tried to have the perfect anniversary dinner and nothing went as planned. Which is kind of expected when you come from a family that is known to be loud and unexpected (hello, we are Mexican). Still, when you can make Spanish Fly from lemons, can you really complain? Lesson learned.

Next time, we eat Taco Bell in Hawaii and call it a day. Or a party.

until then, for now...

So, I know I said I would be more active in posting blogs, but these past couple of weeks, have taken their toll on me. Firstly, my boss Alice gave birth to a new baby boy.

On August 28, weighing at 7 lbs. and 13 oz., baby Alexander James was born. While his father, Azten, stayed in jail. If that wasn't a sign to leave your cheating spouse who continues to associate with shady characters that allow him to miss the birth of his first son (actually Azten has a son with his first wife, but this would have been his first with Alice), then I don't know what is. Alice, of course, doesn't see it this way, and continues to believe once Azten's trail date rolls around in December, life will be perfect. Until then, I have been put in charge of the flower shop.

It's been a little stressful, dealing with customers, impossible floral orders and a cooler that broke down last Thursday, but so far I've managed to keep up the shop while Alice is out on maternity leave. And even though it hasn't been my cup of tea, the one thing I can appreciate is the fact I know I do not wish to continue a career in the floral business.

As I came to this conclusion, another career opportunity presented itself to me. Gwen, the coffee barrista we all love but can never have, asked me what I thought about becoming a fashion buyer/manager for a new clothing store her boss's family was thinking about opening. Judging solely how I dress at work, Gwen thought I would be a perfect choice to help start the store. It sounded like such a great opportunity, until, Gwen told me where the store would open up at: Milwaukee, WI. That's right. I was asked if I would consider moving 1800 miles away to open up a store, which would be a cross between Anthropologie, Urban Outfitters and Buffalo Exchange.

It's all I've been able to think about for the past couple of days. That and my parent's upcoming 25th anniversary party. It's this Sunday and our house has been a whirlwind of designing and rearranging our entire house to accomodate all our family and friends. That in itself is taking its toll on my parents as my mom's guest list continues to expand, stressing my father even more. He originally wanted a party with sub sandwiches and a mariachi band, but my mother went for the formal route, with actual silverware and waiters. After Sunday, I'll be able to actually think a little more clearer, but until then, wish me luck!