Cruel Intentions??

Yesterday my soon to be ex called me and asked me if I wanted to have sex with him.

Yes, you read that right. He has some HUGE cajones on him to try that shit with me after all he's put me through lately. I guess he thinks I'm that desperate and lonely. Umm, no. I have absolutely no desire be anywhere near him any time soon. I guess I didn't make that clear enough. Maybe I was too nice, should I have chased him out of the house with a machete? a hot pot of grits or masa? How do you make an ex truly an ex? Any suggestions??

Abrazos,
Monica

Grrr!!!

Disappointed in your behavior then and now,
Monica

OUCH!

My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids.

I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours:

"Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet."

So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those "cold wax" kits.

No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off.  No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be?

I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)

So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together.

Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees.  ("Cold wax," yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh.

Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works!

OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this!

Hair removal no longer eludes me!

I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.

With my next wax strip I move north.

After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship.

I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet.

Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my hoo-ha and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (it was a long strip)

I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRRRIIIIPPP!!!!

I'm blind!!!

Blinded from pain!!!!...

OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!!

Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP!

Another deep breath and RIPP! Everything is spinning and spotted.

I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...must stay conscious.

Do I hear crashing drums???

Breathe, breathe..................

OK, back to normal.

I want to see my trophy -

a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it.

I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair.

I hold up the strip!

There's no hair on it.

Where is the hair???

WHERE IS THE WAX???

Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet.

I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip...it's not!

I touch. I am touching wax.

I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair.

Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped upon the toilet? I know I need to do something.

So I put my foot down.

Sealed shut!  

My butt is sealed shut.

Sealed shut!

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself  "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax?

Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!!

I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should

melt and I can gently wipe it off, right???

*WRONG!!!!!!!*

I get in the tub -

The water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.

Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water.

Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.

So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cemented myself to the porcelain!!

God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!

I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone.

It's a very good conversation starter  "So, my butt and hoo-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!"

There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me.

She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hole or hoo-ha?"

She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her.

I give her the  rundown a nd she suggests I call the number on the side of the box.

YEAH!!!!! Right!!

I should be the joke of someone else's night.

While we go through various solutions I resort to trying to scrape the wax off with a razor .

Nothing feels better than to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!

By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic

Stress counseling for this event.

My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax.

What do I really have to lose at this point?

I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!!!!!!

The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend.

It's sooo painful, but I really don't care.

"IT WORKS!!

It works !!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up.

I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....

THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!

So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts.

I could have amputated my own leg at this point.

Next week I'm going to try hair color......

*Originally sent to me by my friend Monica See. I just had to share it.

**Okay guys, I know you looked.  See what kind of shit we go through to look good for you!!!

xoxo

10 days...

Praying,
Monica

No me ames...

Sola,
Monica

Venting...

Things that make me mad!

-My classroom is extremely hot. People stop by all day to remind me. The next time someone comes in my room and says "Wow, it's hot in here!!" is going to get punched in the neck.

-Due to my many health conditions I have a limited diet. The workplace is full of food. Especially chocolate. I cannot eat chocolate. I am offered brownies, cookies, and cake all made of chocolate every week. I say no thank you. The reply is always "Why?" I respond, "I can't have chocolate." Person looks at me with a sad face, "Oh you poor thing, I would just die if I couldn't eat chocolate". *sigh*

-All of my friends are obsessed with their cellphones. A former friend never, EVER lets it out of her sight. She even sleeps with it.We all know this about her. Well we all started to notice that whenever one of us would call or text her she wouldn't pick up or reply. Her response would be *giggle* I didn't hear the phone ring or I never got that text. Whatever. We know you miss nothing. You're just ignoring us for your latest novio. When you finally get that diamond ring, we'll be ignoring YOUR calls when you want bridesmaids.

Ahhh, that feels better.

Besos,
Monica

Shall I Teach You How to Dougie?

Bailando,
Monica

Eminem - Love The Way You Lie ft. Rihanna

Some scars are on the inside...




Taking one day at a time,
Monica

Nozze

My first year of teaching was hectic. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. I admit it. No clue. College does not prepare you for anything that will happen in a realistic school day. Student behavior, psycho parents, inept administrators, backstabbing teachers, lack of supplies, etc.

Those are just the negative happenings around a school building. There are many, many more positives. The messy little faces that run up to you for hugs at the end of the day. The piles of interesting gifts on your desk around the holidays. A parent that stops by just to tell you that you're her child's favorite teacher.

During my first year of teaching I met a student who did not speak very good English. Her name was Pina. I read her file and discovered that she always came about 2 weeks late into the school year because she was in Italy on holiday. The day she arrived I knew she would be special to me.

Pina stayed with me during recess everyday practicing English and helping me grade papers and clean the classroom. I always tried to encourage her to go outside, but she never wanted to go. She did this the entire school year.

The next year we both changed grades. I was now teaching a higher grade and Pina had made friends over the summer. We still kept in touch all through her schooling. I was there for her communion, her high school graduation, and her college graduation. If you know anything about big Italian celebrations, you are made to feel like family. Plus you don't leave until you are FULL. Mama says so!

Pina was recently married in Italy to the love of her life on August 4, 2010. I was invited to go, but I was sick and could not make the journey. I told her I was there in spirit. Teaching is so much more than just a paycheck.

Complimenti,

Monica

Speak Up, Speak Out!

Mi Madre...

Yesterday was my mother's birthday. She didn't want gifts, just her children y su nene over for dinner. Sounds simple right? It should have been.

My Dad picked up chicken from some unknown place and my Mom cooked a bunch of sides. My new meds don't allow me to drink soda, so I couldn't drink anything and I wasn't hungry. She was immediately offended and proceeded to make comments under her breath for the rest of the dinner.

Every who knows me knows I am under dietary restrictions. If I don't know where it came from and what it's made of, I don't eat it. I don't make a big deal about it either. I stay quiet and eat what I can, when I can.

Time for dessert. There were two choices, a double chocolate cake and an apple pie. No chocolate, but the apple pie would be okay as long as I ate a small piece. I guess my piece wasn't so small to her. In front of everyone she says, "Oh, I see what you're eating, sweets. Obviously you have been eating SOMETHING over there". Her words were like a hot knife cutting through my wrist. Her ojos full of disappointment.

I am so hurt and saddened by her comments. I can't even look at myself in the mirror anymore. First mi esposo emotionally and verbally abuses me and mi madre finishes me off. There is only so much a person can take.

Why am I so hurt? Mi madre has always been thin her entire life. Even after having her babies. She was so happy that I was thin as well. Until I got really sick in 2007. After that she constantly makes comments about my weight. My sister-in-law is super thin, so at the table I looked like the elephant in the room.
 
I've finally snapped. I haven't eaten much of anything since Sunday. It makes it easy since I have zero dolares. I've lost interest in everything and everyone one.

Triste y sola,

Monica