Billy Madison

You know that scene that’s so common at the end of movies when the two main characters finally kiss and then a whole bunch of gross looking secondary characters kiss? Well, if that happened in real life I would puke all over all of you. Fair warning. Lock it up.

This post was inspired by the timeless movie Billy Madison.

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Olga

One of my closest friends went on a school-affiliated trip to Paris in the summer going in to junior year of high school and she brought for me an Agatha Ruiz de la Prada notebook. It was bright pink and had a colorful star on the front and I thought it was too pretty to just doodle in; I would use it to write well-formed and serious thoughts! I planned to write out my thoughts on marriage and religion and television. I planned and planned and then got distracted by my high school life and forgot about the notebook until recently when I found it while cleaning out my room. The only thing I wrote in the notebook was this-

“This notebook was brought to me by Olga Lucia Perez. She got it in Paris, France where she spent a summer doing fabulous things. I will try to match the fabulousness this notebook is obviously used to with my thoughts on life.”

HOW EMBARRASSING WAS I? The worst part is that I was pretty old when I wrote that. Anyway, my reason for sharing is that I obviously haven’t learned anything because this website is just an extension of my Paris notebook and I’m the still ridiculous and life is full circle. Goodnight. 

Deal Breakers

Here is a list of deal breakers I came up with last night while I was at a party (I know how to party!)-

  • Owning a snake
  • Being too ironic too often
  • In the same vein as the latter, being too sarcastic
  • Conversely, not understanding when someone is being ironic or sarcastic
  • Referring to Wednesday as “hump day,” ironically or not
  • And finally, using the phrase, “working hard or hardly working”

Things on the Playground

I’m working part-time taking care of children and I don’t think I’m very good at it. 

Here are two things I heard yesterday-

“I’ve never seen a blond girl cry like that”

and

“I just blew you up in my mind”

The latter was actually directed at me so if any one has any babysitting needs they want met, I can refer you to someone else.

The Papi Otto Diaries

Once when I was younger, I’m not sure when but it was before I was eight, Papi Otto took me to work with him. Papi Otto worked at a matadero. Apparently there’s no Hippocratic oath for veterinarians. I saw pig’s skin hanging from hooks all over the place and Papi Otto told me the pigs were sleeping and they took off their coats before they took naps. 

The Papi Otto Diaries

I will be writing a lot about my grandfather because he’s a wonderful source of ridiculousness. Those of you who know him or have met him or have seen him from a distance can attest to the fact that he’s basically a cartoon character. My grandfather’s name is Otto Ramón Casáls. He was born in the Cuban countryside and has two brothers. His parents felt that he would have a more promising future growing up in a city so they sent him to live with his aunt in Cienfuegos, Cuba. He was a very skilled member of the rowing team there and this has been his greatest source of pride. He studied veterinary medicine.

After he left Cuba, my grandfather first lived in New York City where he married my grandmother. About their relationship, my grandmother was ten years older than my grandfather and he was OBSESSED with her. He was her puppy dog. I can’t adequately stress how in control my grandmother was in their relationship. They had my uncle and my mom and then my aunt was born after they moved to Miami. Papi Otto developed the reputation of being “the mean one” amongst my aunts and uncles. They were all scared of him.

The legend goes that one day my grandfather started yelling about god knows what because he was always angry and my aunt, without thinking, said “ay, cállate ya, Otto.” The room fell silent in a quiet panic and she immediately regretted her words. But Otto just walked away.

Since then, Papi Otto has been the biggest push over. He still yells, but no one really listens to him when he does and he just ends up huffing and puffing (literally) to himself. He’s a cantankerous old man with a hunchback who wobbles when he walks, wears pants that are way too tight and who argues about everything before he ultimately always gives in to the other person. Its like he always has to say “no” before he says “yes.”

Me: Papi Otto, ask for tea in a British accent

Papi Otto: (huffs)

Me: C’mon do the British accent “tea and scones..”

Papi Otto: No. Ya. Haga el te ya, tu

Me: Not until you do the accent!

Papi Otto: Es que.. esto es increíble.. será posible.. coño.. (huffs) (hisses).. Sabrina! – Does the worst interpretation of a British accent you’ve ever heard

So in all, my grandfather is the best because he’s crazy and weird and does things like show up at my house two to three hours earlier than he’s supposed to and I’m going to write about him often.

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Superstitions

Here is a list of some superstitions I take super seriously:

  1. The nail polish on your hands must match the nail polish on your toes or else you will explode
  2. If you look over at the clock and the time reads 11:11, you must announce it everyone in your immediate vicinity so then you all can make a wish, lest you wish to have a dream taken away (note: you cannot wait for the clock to change to 11:11, it has to be an organic act of the universe granting you the opportunity to make a wish. Don’t be a cheat)
  3. Whenever you jinx something, you have to knock on wood (real wood!) or on your head. If what you said was really bad, you should knock on both wood and your head, just to be safe. This simple act will help stave off the apocalypse and restore order to the universe.
  4. Energies and omens are real. This isn’t a superstition its just something I believe. I also believe the Long Island Medium is everyone’s real mother.

**I’ll probably add to this list as I go on living

Commercials

If I am even a slight representative of the American population, advertising execs have it made because COMMERCIALS WORK. On me, at least. It’s not usually the commercials telling me to buy things that peak my interest. Mostly I’m obsessed with commercials of the discount persuasion- “This Thursday buy one jumbo blizzard and get 5 cents off your second one!” I wouldn’t dream of eating two whole blizzards (actually I would dream of but I wouldn’t do it because I have some sense of self-respect) but mark my words, this Thursday I will find someone to eat that second blizzard. Ill be damned if I’m going to miss out on a bargain!

The other types of commercials that really get me every time are the if-you-don’t-buy-our-product-you’ll-wish-you-were-dead commercial and their brother commercial could-you-have-this-condition-that-our-product-treats-at-the-risk-of-worse-side-effects? For example, I watched a commercial about mattresses and how important they are because you’re supposed to sleep a lot and if you’re not sleeping well you’ll get cancer and your spine will get so messed up you’ll have a hunchback at thirty and my head is spinning and I want to cry. I’m writing this as I lay in bed and all I can think about is that my mattress is basically trying to kill me. I’m also very concerned about glaucoma and stress sweats (which smells worse than regular sweat and is harder to treat, apparently, but secret clinical strength can cure anything and was blessed my the pope or something!) So congratulations, advertising companies, you’re work is effectively ruining my life.

Eating Habits

My eating habits can be described in two terrible truths:

1. I will eat whatever food is in front of me regardless of whether I am hungry            or even like it

2. I regularly daydream about desserts

Let me attempt to convey how big of a problem both of these are. Separately, I would have a minor food addiction but together I am an actual monster.

Recently, I ate a normal, boring dinner and then afterwards I went over to my aunt’s house and ate an entire bunch of grapes. I did not want to eat said grapes but they were in front of me so it was out of my control. In the history of this great, weird world where people voluntarily get plugs in their ears no one has ever honestly said “I am crazy craving grapes right now! I mean I have got to have some grapes!” Grapes don’t taste like anything even. That’s enough about grapes. I should also mention that in addition to half the grape supply in Miami, I also ate a generous (greedy) portion of nutella banana bread and it was a good night.

My second terrible truth manifested itself today when I was hanging out at my friend’s house and she mentioned how she wanted cookies. I suggested we go to the market and buy some cookie dough but she thought that was too much work. She obviously doesn’t have the same relationshit with food that I do because I dreamt of cookies until I could almost taste them in my mouth. And then as soon as I left her house I bought cookie dough and raced home. This happened an hour and a half ago and I’ve since had three cookies. This post is a cry for help.

¡mi suegra!

Ever since I was little whenever I would hit my elbow against something and I felt that instant, crippling pain that meant the world was ending and I would never feel normal again, I would curse “¡mi suegra!” This translates to “my mother-in-law!” An interesting thing to know about me is that I am not married. Also, I was not married when I was four years old and would say this. I have never had a mother-in-law. I started saying this because that’s just what people yelled when they slammed this surprisingly sensitive corner of their body into some stationary object. I’m not sure if all Spanish-speaking nationalities use this phrase but my family is of Cuban descent so I can vouch for that group: we sure hate our significant other’s mothers!