Wednesday, March 28, 2007

whats love got to do, got to do with it?

If you’re wondering why you can’t see the last post, I had posted on Friday, there’s a legitimate reason for that. I do NOT want the aforementioned party to read what I wrote, because then there would be an awkward tension between us. Believe me, I know. I’m all about the awkward moments, always trying to avoid them but somehow managing to get in them.

Like last Tuesday, for example. My friend Maria was looking at her phone bill, when she noticed that they had included her father’s phone bill in the same envelope as well. She casually looked over the call logs and noticed that there was one number in particular that had been dialed quite a number of times. Being of the curious mind, Maria called the number and was shocked to hear a woman’s voice on the other line. She immediately told her mother and together they investigated the strange number and the even stranger woman. Turns out, Maria’s dad was having an affair. For the past two years, he was seeing another woman, something that had turn from a casual one-time fling to something really serious. Maria was devastated. Here was a man with a devoted wife and four kids at home, believing they were truly a happy family and…it was beyond sad.

Maria called and shared this shocking and intimate secret, asking if I could come over since she didn’t know what to do for her uncontrollable and heartbroken mother or how to keep her younger, unknowing siblings away from all the mess. I was unsure too, but I went, taking a tub of ice cream and a basketball. Maria’s father came home late that day. The moment he walked in through the door, all hell broke loose as Maria, her older brother, and her mother yelled at him, demanding an answer. It was really awkward, watching this grown man break down into tears, wondering when and where his life went so horribly wrong. It was like the proverbial car accident on the highway. And I had a front seat viewing. I didn’t know if this was my cue to leave or not, so I sat in stony silence, trying to blend in with the furniture. Which was kinda hard, seeing as my clothes aren’t made out of furniture fabric.

Two days later, Maria called me up again, asking me again for support. Not knowing how to handle a situation like theirs, Maria and her mother went to the church asking a Father and a Nun for help. Reminding the devastated duo about the power of forgiveness, they both advised Maria and her mom to let the adulterous adult back into the house. And they did. But not long after, Maria’s dad left again, which is why she called me. She needed someone to figuratively hold her hand while she went to go get her dad back. Turns out, the woman he was having an affair with, lived not two blocks down from Maria and her family. And outside her house, was Maria’s dad’s truck. I sat in the car, waiting, while Maria and her brother tried talking to their dad, asking him to come home and to stop hurting their family. He declined, apologizing, but making very clear that he had made his final decision.

It made me mad. I know it wasn’t even my dad, but just the fact that a person could dismiss an entire family and an entire life so easily was beyond upsetting. Her family was in shambles and obviously confused because two days later, Maria’s dad came back and the family accepted him back in. I didn’t get it. How could they welcome such a cruel man back and call him dad, all over again? Was there something I was missing? Maria said, it was because deep down, way, way deep down, they still loved him. But how was it possible to love somebody who hurts you so badly?

Later that day, my Aunt Cassandra got arrested. Talk about your awkward reading, huh? Somewhere west of Tucson, in a little small town called Ajo, my Aunt was pulled over for speeding, but ended up in jail on three counts of marijuana. How embarrassing. If you’re gonna get arrested for drugs, do something high class and designer. But in all seriousness, it was actually kinda scary. With my aunt put away behind bars and a hearing set for this Thursday, our entire family’s world turned completely upside down. First and foremost, there was my little cousins to think about. What would happen to Bianca and Anthony? Their dad didn’t want them, as he made it perfectly clear several times when he divorced my aunt, several years back and no one in my family was financially capable of adding two extra growing mouths to their own family.

That’s when my mother formed an impromptu meeting with all her brothers and sisters, minus one, and told everyone that this would be the one thing that would either break us or make us stronger as a family. Yes, we would have to make a lot of sacrifices, but that’s just what families and friends do in times of need. They help each other out. They’re just there for each other. And after spending a weekend watching my cousins, in what can only be described as a formulaic Garry Marshall movie, I understood Maria‘s family decision just a little better. Despite the fact that my aunt left my cousins so abruptly, they still loved their mother. Kinda like the way a dog still loves you, even after you punish it for chewing on all the furniture. No matter how many times they disappoint you, there are certain members in our family that we just cant let go of. The same goes for certain friends and other loved ones. It’s not so much a matter of forgiving as it is just love. Good ol’ fashioned, unconditional, I-don’t-know-why love.

Sunday, March 04, 2007

the science of stress

In life, there are many questions that will always remain a mystery. Questions like, if a tree falls in the forest and there is no one around, does it make a sound or who in the hell thought it would be a great idea to put Mariah Carey in another movie? But the most puzzling question I wonder about is, why do we still have science fair projects in grade school?

It was science fair season at Gallenger Middle School and my cousin Katrina called me up and asked if I could help her put together an award winning science project. I still don't know why she asked me, since science has never been my strong point. I remember my seventh grade chemistry teacher, Mrs. Cannon, would always have me observe the science experiments we did in class instead of participate, because I broke too many mercury thermometers and used too much sand on the chemicals I accidently spilled. So I was kinda honored that my cousin thought of me, when she was planning her science fair project. Me. Mr. Science Guy. Who'da thunk? Of course now, I wish I hadn't been so eager to help.

As it turns out, my little 6th grade cousin is a perfectionist freak to the tenth power of nerdom. And her science project had to reflect just that. Katrina's teacher had handed out an example of how a science board should look like and Katrina was determined to make an exact replica. She had to. It's what the teacher wanted. It's what she expected. If you didn't do it her way, you'd end up like Jennifer Bincini.

Jennifer Bincini was a past Gallenger student who tried to add her own sense of style and flair to her science fair project and according to urban science fair lore, got an F for putting her procedure on the right side of her board, rather then on the left. I assured Katrina that nothing of the sort was possible, since you couldn't get points knocked off for creativity, but she wouldn't hear of it. She couldn't hear of it, because in the back of her mind, all she could hear was her teacher telling her to do it exactly as shown in the example handout. Or else. What the "or else..." was, I wasn't sure. All I knew was that it brought tears upon tears of fear to my cousin's face.

I wondered just what kind of facist was this woman that needed to have perfect science projects. Was she some kind of Nobel prize winner that expected her students to produce mind blowing presentations out of rubber cement and construction paper?

Either way, since I had already told katrina I would help her, I knew I would have to deal with the psychotic episodes that would surely follow. And they did. When I accidently glued her list of materials on the less "vibrant" side of the pink construction paper, she went crazy. When I arranged the title in a fun and curvy way, she had a ballistic outburst. In truth, I probably should have had her committed against her will. If she was acting like this at age 12, imagine at age 30. I would be saving her from a life of un-needed stress. But then again, it would have made the next family reunion a little awkward.

It took six diapers, five vicodin, four crying outbursts, three poster boards and two whole weeks but we finally got that project done. It was the most strenuous project I had ever participated in, that I had actual tears of joy when my cousin finally left my house.

I needed a break. I needed to escape to a place where I could be at peace and collect what was left of my sanity. My salvation came when my good friend Madelaine called me a few days later.

Madelaine had planned to spend her entire spring break visiting the beautifully, historic country of Spain. It was a total dream come true.The only trouble was, her passport had not come in. Somewhere down the processing line, someone forgot to enter her information in the computer, which meant her passport would not be ready on time, as promised. Madelaine flipped. But unlike Katrina, she had good reason to. Her only chance of getting to the country, besides selling herself on the black market for white slavery, was to go to L.A. and plead her case at the Regional Passport Agency. Only then would she know if she would be visiting Spain. And the person she asked to accompany on this impromptu trip to L.A.? Me.

So what I guess I'm trying to say is...if you're between the ages of awesome and old fart, will be in the L.A. area between now and Tuesday, and know of a really great restaurant, look me up! You have my email...