"Nadie tiene mayor amor que este, que uno ponga su vida por sus amigos." ~Jesucristo

I don't have the words. You know? Sometimes it's best to leave things unsaid.

More later...I'm tired. ZZZZzzzzzzz

I know that I don't update so much anymore, and yes, I feel like I let you guys down sometimes. But you know what? I do this for free to distract me from my everyday grind. If I did this for a living ($$$), I'd update as much as Dan from Theoscafe.

Okay, maybe not that often, but you get what I'm saying. Moving on....

It's no secret that I believe in UFO's. I've posted a few times about it. I even posted about abductions and how it may have happened to me (and yes, I was kidding). If you've been a loyal follower of my blog, you'd know that I have a lot of theories on a lot of subjects...and I'm here to tell you that I believe I finally solved the whole waking up to aliens in the bedroom thing. That's right. You heard me right. I know why it is that all these descriptions are so similar...

                                                                  Right?

Well, there is a reason why this is becoming more and more common =====>

Boo ya! I rest my case. It's all about wishful thinking, and an overactive imagination. But here's more proof ==>

Any questions???

I have a story for you guys. So, about a week ago I was texting a friend, back and forth. I have a qwerty keypad on my phone, so I type fairly fast...too fast it seems. I don't know what it's called, but there's some sort of assist option on my phone that guesses what I'm going to type. I know that some of you know what I'm talking about. Anyway, it actually remembers words that you type and also fills words in anticipation. ie- if I start to type Re then the word Remember comes up, and I could just hit a button and the word REMEMBER is automatically typed without actually having typed the whole word out. Anyway, I type in Spanish quite a bit and sometimes that option is a real pain because it guesses everything wrong. Sometimes I don't notice. Long story short...I sent a friend a text that was supposed to say "Con tu hija." (With your daughter) But what I actually sent out was "Come to hijack." Anyway, now (a week later) it seems my phone is being hacked/monitored somehow. I work nights and I have my phone in front of me. I see it light up for a sec without being touched. I'm thinking someone is probably listening in. Hmm...well to the fellas down in the FBI, I hope you pack a lot of NO DOZ or PRO PLUS because my life these days is rather boring. I was actually thinking I was paranoid or just plain ridiculous until I saw THIS today.

SO, if you don't see my footprints on your Xangas for the next few years, I'm probably being tortured in a dark, damp, basement in a remote location by black-budget, non existent members of our government. Please tell them that they're about 15 years too late and that I'm a family man now. You'll vouch for me won't you???

No, you're not seeing an optical illusion or experiencing a Vietnam flashback...it's a real post. So why the big breaks in between posts, you ask? Well, between a job that is driving me crazy and a marriage devoid of any coital bliss, I have little to inspire creative thoughts. Well, that's not true. I do play out creative ways to kill my boss in my head all day. He seriously doesn't know how close he's come to feeling a sharpened number 2 pencil lodged in his anal cavity or worse. But no, he isn't worth the jail time. Moving on.

I believe it was Peter Sinclair (sp?) that said that depression loses its power when fresh vision pierces the darkness. I found that to be true. In fact, the old me would find my current pussness (yes, that's a word) laughable. I have no real problems. Nothing that Jill (or Manuela for my Spanish brothers and sisters) and a beatdown couldn't fix. Moving on. I suppose that I have to give Paige credit for this post. She told me to get off my lazy rump and write something.

I wonder how much longer gas prices will remain affordable? For a while there, I was seriously considering riding a scooter to work. Okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, but you feel me, right? I keep reading that this drop in price is due to less of a demand for gasoline in this quickly deteriorating economy. I don't know if I believe that. What I do know is that I never let my tank go below 3/4 full, just in case prices increase by 5 bucks a gallon overnight.

Speaking of which, I was reading an article the other day about how all that madness at the pump was a direct result of my people from Mexico...or "crapheads" as the article's author chooses to call us. Haven't we been blamed for enough things already? I mean, shit! Sometimes I wish that Alien Greys started coming here in their UFOs illegally. Then maybe we could start to blame them pale, doe-eyed, cow mutilating, no genital having bastards for everything! I'm just saying.

*****EDIT~ My bad. I thought that everybody knew what Jill was in reference to:

Hello, Xanga! Let me begin by saying sorry for the delay between posts, but I've been busy with life and feeling rather unmotivated as of late. So, anyway...yeah.  Let me begin...

So, Saturday night I attended what promised to be a great Halloween party. And it was. There were easily over a hundred people in this huge mountain cabin. Everyone was all dressed and liquored up. The music was decent (no Tupac) and eye candy aplenty. There was even a stripper pole...and it got plenty of use from drunkards of both sexes. I was dressed as Caesar and I was drinking conservatively. Not that I didn't know most of the people there, but there were also plenty of people I didn't know. I just kept my guard up. Old habits and all.

Anyway, there were several fights towards the end of the night...liquid courage and all. Somehow, I was always asked to break it up. I knew the host well, and also the people involved in the fights, so I did. But while breaking up one of the fights, I got more than I bargained for! I grabbed a guy by the arm and a fistful of his shirt and proceeded to escort him outside. He was fighting me the whole way. Once we made it outside, I let him go. He started to come back towards me, so I grabbed him by the neck with my left hand and got ready to give this drunk ass the goodnight blow with my right. Before I did, I told him to leave or I was gonna be forced to give him a beat down. He said, "Ah, homie. No, I don't want any shit with you. There's nothing but love here." As he said this he gave me what I thought was gonna be the regular drunken hug. I humored him. That is until he kissed me on the neck.

I mean, it wasn't a prolonged, tongue involved, seductive kiss...but it was a kiss none the less. And what happened to him next was just reflex, I swear. Yeah, it was quite the experience.

So I came across a news story today that sickened me, as few things do. Apparently, Britney's mom has written a book, in which, she reveals all of her daughter's dirt to the world. I suppose that she has her reasons. Money? Attention? Or maybe even a noble cause hidden deeply within a warped brain? Whatever it is, it's wrong.

Betrayal is one of those things that I simply find unforgivable. Especially when it comes from someone close to you. And that goes double-triple-quadruple when it comes from family. I mean seriously, how do you do that to someone you love?

I've done a lot of low, despicable things in my time...but betrayal is something I could never do. Thank God, that I was always blessed with loyal friends.

You know, a lot of people see tattoos, baggy clothes, shaved heads, and perhaps even a long wrap sheet and they assume that we are people of little or no worth. That may be true to a point...but not entirely. Though I admit, that we may carry heavy sins with us, and eventually end up receiving the wrath of a righteous God, there are some things that we hold sacred. Loyalty. Friendship. The world can learn a lot from us in that regard. Circumstance and position in life have on occasion caused a stint in the joint...but if we came from different worlds, things might be different. Not in every case, but there may be a few. I hesitate to put this out there like this because there may be a sucker or two -who is quick with the tongue- that scoffs at the very thought. And though it may be spoken with a Harvard tongue, truth is, unless you've been there...you don't know shit! Some of our education comes from the school of life, and on the receiving end of gunfire...and that knowledge can't be learned in a classroom or by reading a few articles or books. Moving on...

 

In other circles, that loyalty to a group of people involved in war may be rewarded by metals, awards, and accolades. "For bravery unsurpassed in the battlefield." "For not leaving a wounded comrade" "For risking his life for another."

The point is, that regardless of where you come from, loyalty is held in high regard. Therefore, betrayal is seen as low...no matter what the reason. I just don't understand how someone can go there. You know what I mean???

"I'm gonna die mad, still standing there in love with my pride." ~Tupac Amaru Shakur

So, I was commenting on one of my favorite Xanga sites lately and I mentioned something that I had never written about. I thought that it would make a decent post, so here it is.

I'm not trying to sound dramatic, but I almost drown three times a week. No, not because I can't swim, but because of my damn male pride. I swim laps in a huge indoor pool as part of a workout. I go every morning after working all night. It helps me relax, and I sleep better. The problem is that there is a female lifeguard on duty at that time, and as part of her job, she observes all the swimmers. At that time, there are few swimmers. And THAT'S where the problem lies. There always comes a point where a person reaches total exhaustion and has to stop. The problem is that you don't always reach that point at either ends of the pool...sometimes it happens somewhere in between. So, a normal person will just stop and rest, perhaps grab on to the floating ropes that separate the swimming lanes. But I simply don't see that as an option. I CAN'T STOP. Not while she's watching. I have to keep swimming until I reach the end. Now, let me make it clear that I don't find her attractive in the least, but that's not the point. She's a woman and she's watching me. I refuse to stop and have her (in my mind) think that I'm a wuss. That's why I keep going, even though I don't have anything left. And yes, I've come close to drowning several times. I swallowed pool water before swallowing my pride more times that I can count.  Ridiculous? Maybe, but it's true.

I guess that I could blame my foolish male pride on the city streets that raised me. But really, that can't be entirely true. There are plenty of people who grew up in the same place and even under the same circumstances, yet they don't have that flaw.

As I think about that, I realize that there were literally hundreds of times throughout my life that I placed myself in danger rather than have anyone think I was showing weakness. There are things that I wouldn't do for any amount of money, and yet, have done on a dare or challenge...or even just to show that I could. Stupid. I have ruined relationships, lost jobs, and even lost my soul because of it. And though I don't go to the extreme with it as in times past, I still do these little stupid things everyday. I realize it, but apparently I'm unable to control it.

Ah, yes, but there are exceptions. Namely, my kids. There have been times that I made exceptions just so I didn't place my kids in danger. Sometimes, I have swallowed my pride just so they didn't see something I didn't want them to. So I suppose there is till hope for this old bastard. Don't you think?

Can anyone out there relate...or am I the last of my kind?

I received an e-mail recently asking me why I don't go to the Xangateam's website to advertise my posts and get them featured. This person was highly complimentary, and the truth is, I was flattered by the suggestion. My condensed answer was basically that I think if my posts are good enough for somebody to like, then THEY can do that. I have a problem with going to John or Xangateam with , "look at how cool I am!" "This is so cool that it deserves to be picked over the millions of Xanga blogs out there!"

I don't know. Maybe it's a cultural thing. Maybe I'm just a prideful bastard. I never really gave it much thought until now. A lot of old school latinos out there might understand what I mean by "cultural." 

Growing up, my mother would teach us kids that it was rude to be pediches. I don't really know how to translate that. It's one of those idioms that don't translate well. For example, when we went over to someone's house, we were told not to be asking for anything and "acting like we don't feed you at home." Or they would instruct us to politely decline gifts or food at least twice, no matter how hungry we were or how much we wanted something. Besides, in our culture, we insist over and over until you accept. Weird. è

"Would you like some home made beef stew?"

"No thanks." (decline#1)

"Oh, come on, it's really good. It's my mother's recipe."

"No thank you, I ate not too long ago." (decline #2)

"Oh, come on, just a little bit?"

"Thanks but I'm really not that hungry."(decline# 3)

"Here let me just serve you a small portion. You really have to try this."

"Okay." (at this point it's considered proper manners to accept)

Like I said, weird. But that's how we were raised. We don't ask. Besides, most of my posts are just random stuff that I happen to think about. I think my only good writing comes when I happen to be drinking and I don't censor myself. Not drunk exactly, but just enough to be uninhibited. I probably share too much. But those posts always get me positive replies, comments and messages. So I leave them up. Those of you who have been around these parts for a while know what I mean.

And I'm just like everybody else when it comes to enjoying comments and feedback. I get exited when I see my serious writing touch somebody. One of the most rewarding comments I received on Xanga is up on my clipboard. I printed it out and put it up. It reads, "Reading your posts, I've decided I'm finally gonna volunteer at this place I've been ignoring so badly for the past few weeks. It's located in the most poverty-stricken area of this huge city... it's about time I stop being a wuss. Thanks to you, I'm gonna call them up now. They've been waiting for my response, leaving messages and stuff. I know I can make an impact, it's just I'm afraid of something. Don't know what.. but not anymore. Keep blogging. You changed one life already!"

How cool is that? I've collected quite a few of these over the years. Some are comments, some private messages, and some are e-mails. Whenever S.O. gives me the look or rolls her eyes at me when she sees me "wasting my time" on Xanga, I simply point  to my clipboard. It's cool to have an excuse...because truth is...

^^^ I'm a "true" Xangan for "life"...featured or not! ^^^

First off, I'd say that I'd be proud of my accomplishments thus far. Not many people can say that and really mean it. I do. This is not to say that I don't have regrets, because I do. A lot. But looking at my life on the whole, I see that I did make a difference. My life was significant. No, I didn't cure cancer or win a Nobel prize. I didn't make a multimillion dollar record, or ever won a gold metal. I didn't make TIME's man of the year, or win a congressional metal of honor...although I had a gold start placed on my forehead in third grade for drawing a picture of a bunny rabbit. But the way I see it, I gave my all to my family. I loved my children beyond everything else. Let me qualify what I'm saying....

Remember Abraham? Remember what God promised him for his obedience and unselfishness? His reward?

"I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven, and as the sand which is upon the sea shore..."

To me, that puts things in perspective. So, if the great reward from God was to have offspring, then I should realize how blessed I am to have children. And I do.

In that, I have succeeded. I did make a difference. My kids know how much I love them. Not a day goes by without me showing them how much I love them. From playing with them, showing affection, or taking walks with them and listening to what they have to say...they know how special they are to me. And they too, love me. They tell me on their own, everyday. They show me. And that is worth more to me than any award I could possibly win or any other accomplishment.

So, if I were to die tomorrow, and I had a chance to scribble down some words of wisdom, here's what I would say. But wait, this being Xanga...I have to make it interesting as well as have participation from my subscribers...so, if  I only had lyrics from songs to use or to choose from then this is what I'd say:

To my sons: "Promise me son, not to do the things I've done. Walk away from trouble if you can. Now it won't mean you're weak if you turn the other cheek. I hope you're old enough to understand. Son, you don't have to fight to be a man."      Coward of the County ~Kenny Rogers

To my daughter: "If he brings you happiness, then I wish you all the best. It's your happiness that matters most of all. But if he ever breaks your heart...if a teardrop ever starts..I'll be there before the next teardrop falls."    Before The Next Teardrop Falls ~Freddy Fender

What lyrics would you use???

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THOUGHTS?????