Couldn’t be more excited. #TEDxTAMU #IdeasWorthSpreading
13
Okie dokie, so I wrote this drunk at around 8 am New Year’s Day. Slept for 4 hours, woke up and read what I had just posted and changed it to a private setting. I’m re-reading it now..and screw it. You can read it too.
Holy hell y’all.
I just had the most topsy turvy New Year’s Night in the history of the world.
Or the history of my life. Either way, it was nuts. So amazing and so unbearable.. I’m writing this in tears.
Let’s start with the good parts. The beginning. Kayla came by the house in the afternoon, got to see her before her birthday! Yay!! Good talk.
THEN, Spurs game with my boys. Some of my favorite people in the world. Joe was back in town, Javi was there, JC, Paul, and of course Gera. It was awesome. Frankie & Sam, AND my right hand man Des & Dusty were there too. We had awesome seats, were very full of alcohol from about 4 pm until…..now. It was a blowout, Spurs spanked that ass. After the game, and a few beers at the post game bar we went off to JC’s fam’s house. Menudo, Budweiser, and stories of our high school days. Good ass times with the boys. Then downtown for a beer at the bar, still all with the boys. We rang in the new year at Hemisphere Plaza. Watched the fireworks at the tower with the Scooby dog Joe won for me, it could not have been better. With my two of my best friends in the whole world and in the heart of the city I love. With a beer in my hand? Shit. Nothing better.
After that we head to Joe’s cousin Robert’s house. Now, it’s around 1:30 am at this point.. So we’re chillin there, I charge my phone since it had been dead and who would call but the girl I had been semi talking to for a gooood while. Over a year, we would always try to see each other but we both had busy schedules. She has kids and I don’t live in SA 90% of the time. So to say things were difficult is definitely an understatement. BUT she is cousin to my friend, so she calls me and they come pick me up (a 10 min drive). We head back to her Mom’s house, meet her family AS A FRIEND and it’s no big deal. Take a shot, sing Tejano music, typical stuff. THEN she steals her sister away to the next room. They come back 10 MINS later and the sister comes and stares at me, then wants to take a shot. I know exactly what has happened. I go to the restroom, followed by this girl. There she tells me that she has just told her sister that she’s into girls. HOLY SHIT. I’m sure I go pale at this point. Now I am in the middle of some major drama. What ensues..I don’t want to relive, but it won’t stop playing in my head.. I have gotten stares before, ugly stares, knowing stares, disapproving stares..but never like this. Now all her family, drunk and JUST finding out that their girl…likes to kiss girls..they’re all looking at me. I am the reason this happened in their eyes, and my girl, this girl..is a couple beers too far in, my friend (her cousin) goes home..and I am left to figure my situation out. I’m less than a mile from my house..it’s raining..I am obviously not wanted here. So after a whole lot of talking, a whole lot of crying, a whole lot of family drama that I did not sign up for..I begin to walk home. Now, if you know where I live you know I’m an idiot for walking in the rain, in this neighborhood at 330 am. And I was, but anything was better than being in that house. Than those eyes burning through me. Than the tears her sister cried. I couldn’t take it. I didn’t let myself stay over, I didn’t let her think that we could work. We couldn’t. She has a family to take care of, I’m going back to school in a couple of weeks..and I should be happy about that. But I can’t help but only want that purpose that she had..putting her girls to bed. Telling them they are her world, tucking them in, kissing their foreheads. I know she will do anything and everything for them..she knows exactly what she’s doing. I have no clue…No earthly idea.
It tore me up though, the way she talked about the path her life was taking. And how her sister regaled tearful stories of a passionless marriage, complete with infidelity and violence. I didn’t want that for this girl, I didn’t want for her to go on and marry her kids’ father (as terrible as that sounds) I know I can’t and won’t stop that. It just made me sad.You’ll be happy to know, I didn’t have to walk all the way home. Her one, very nice, peace keeping, I-just-want-to-understand Tio picked me up. I was very apologetic and almost in tears. He made sure to let me know, it was “just bad timing”. Family was there, I understood that this wasn’t okay to happen in front of them. Wasn’t okay period. If we wanted to do that (do what? I don’t know, we didn’t even hold hands in front of anyone) we should do it on our own time. Someplace else. Her sister, before when we were at the house, straight told me to my face “No, it’s too weird. I don’t want that for my sister. I never would have guessed it for her, and you..well I don’t know. No, it’s too weird. I don’t like it.” Right to my face. And I know exactly what that’s like, I get where he’s coming from, where she was coming from. I was wrong to go there with her girls there, and wrong to mess with that situation at all. It still stung though. Still hurt like a bitch. Still made me feel inadequate..and just not worthy. Terrible feeling. Exactly the type of behavior I try to avoid with my family. I will never put ANYONE through that. Ever.
Tonight was amazing, and so painful, and terrible, and wonderful..memorable. I will never forget tonight, no matter how much I drank. I learned and relearned a lot. A whole lot. New Year…New ideas. To 2013, y’all!
We have a map of the piano
A touch wasn’t even necessary. Those dark telling eyes were my kryptonite. That raised eyebrow.. God. One look..and I was never to be seen again; lost forever in those eyes, infinite pools of sensuality.But that day..
I found my way. And arrived in the wake of your undeniable passion. I reeled as your fingertips hovered above my lips..my neck..traveling slowly, making time stop all together, carefully down my breasts..my stomach..my hips..my thighs. Kissing me with your eyelashes was enough to make me gasp for air. My body became paralyzed with lust when your tongue, wet with passion, met mine. It grew hotter, your fast breath in my ear, on my neck was almost all I could handle. Your wild hair floating over my trembling thighs. Once delicate hands now gripping my wrists above my head. Our hot flesh pressed together. Short breaths. My mind had taken leave, or couldn’t comprehend this intensity…either way my body powerless, was left no choice but to obey.
Why did I write it down? In order to remember, of course, but exactly what was it I wanted to remember? How much of it actually happened? Did any of it? Why do I keep a notebook at all? It is easy to deceive oneself on all those scores. The impulse to write things down is a peculiarly compulsive one, inexplicable to those who do not share it, useful only accidentally, only secondarily, in the way that any compulsion tries to justify itself. I suppose that it begins or does not begin in the cradle. Although I have felt compelled to write things down since I was five years old, I doubt that my daughter ever will, for she is a singularly blessed and accepting child, delighted with life exactly as life presents itself to her, unafraid to go to sleep and unafraid to wake up. Keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether, lonely and resistant rearrangers of things, anxious malcontents, children afflicted apparently at birth with some presentiment of loss.
Joan Didion, from “On Keeping a Notebook”, in “Slouching Towards Bethlehem: Essays” (via mitochondria)
YES.
Well damn Rudy.
So sweet, but so damn sexy. The way his voice trembles absolutely kills me.
One of those nights.
Tonight while gathering my clothes from the dryer I realized how utterly and overwhelmingly alone I am.
First, it shocked me, then the realization became insanely frightening..and finally the saddest thing I’ve ever had to deal with.
There in my mismatched socks and chanclas, with hot jean buttons pressed against my skin I had a full on nervous breakdown. I cried the hardest I’ve cried in a very long time. And hoped someone would come get their clothes to make me stop. But they didn’t. So I kept crying. And crying. And then I cried some more.
Don’t know what I’m doing anymore. At all.
Death is clarity.
Rico, a very good friend of mine just lost his Mom this weekend. Car accident. Completely unexpected. It’s so tragic, I cried and I’ve only met the woman a couple times. The times I did meet her though she was the sweetest woman and so vibrant. On our trip to the coast for the 4th she made sure that we had everything we needed. Bought us a ton of groceries, let us use her chairs and pit. And funny, she was hilarious in only the 30 mins I’ve known her. Rico was a lucky kid. Really makes me realize though just how short life is. Poor Rico was the oldest of 4, his brother is a stud catcher and is being recruited to play college ball..his Mom their biggest fan will never get to see him suit up again. It kills me to see them hurting this way. He’s holding up though.. I don’t know what I would do if this happened to either of my parents. I know I wouldn’t be as strong as Rico is right now. He has an unbelieveable faith. I’m so jealous of it.. That’s what keeping him together right now. Whether it’s wrong or right is irrelevant. Rico’s loss just really put things in perspective for me.. Family is the most important thing. Parents especiallly, I underestimate how much they really mean to me. They are everything. It sounds cliche..and I’ve probably said it a million times, but I’m sitting here in tears for Rico. In tears for my less than perfect relationships with my parents. What if they die and I’ve never told them about me? What if they die and I fall apart. I know my brother will. Death is clarity.
Denise Zapata
5-10-1970 to 09-07-12
Rest In Peace
