Ghetto or Not to Ghetto

I am helping Larkin virtually look for potential houses to move in to and because I haven't lived in Savannah for very long (just shy of 5 years) I have not acquainted myself with ALL of the ghetto parts of it.

I was just about to ask her about a location I found (what looked to be) a nice house and if the location was good or not and thanks to Google maps, my question was answered: (click if needed)

Thank you Google Maps...you are once again my hero.

Leia Mais…

And the Verdict IS...

No one died. No one stroked out! So I am guessing that is a somewhat successful coming out!

Stressful nonetheless.

I am pretty sure 10 years from now this will all be one of those funny stories we tell!

I had no idea how this was all going to go down. It is near impossible to get my parents in the same room together and I sure as hell didn’t want to have to do this thing twice!

My trip back home started late on Wednesday. Due to a trial that was taking place on Monday and in preparing for that fiasco was not able to get out of work early. I arrived at the parents abode to find my Dad reading in bed. We had some chat about things, one of them being the new news (to me) that my youngest brother Jacob had been kicked out of the house.

Mom had decided to spend the night at her mother’s house to help with Thanksgiving preparations, so I went to bed, awaking the next morning to a lovely cup of coffee Dad had made me and put on my nightstand. Best. Father. EVER.

I made my way to Dunkin Donuts to holla at a chicken, egg and cheese on a croissant and also to bide my time to buy beer. It was 10:30 in the morning. In Savannah that is another way of saying “It’s 5:00 somewhere”, but in middle Georgia…eh. So, I drive to the liquor store and they were closed. On Thanksgiving. Why you ask? Because in that small po-dunk town you can’t sell liquor on holidays. WHAT!??! So I went next door to the convenient store to the nice Indian people and got me a six pack of Miller Lite.

I headed over to my grandmother’s house to see what I could help with, we gathered, mingled, watched movies and ate. We had all driven different cars and I knew then that there was no way I was going to get to talk to them Thursday night…too many people in too many different directions, so I decided to go ahead and go visit some other family members…which also involved me getting more beer. I learned that the property my family currently lives on used to house a shit ton of pot. But that is another story.

I got home late on Thursday night and Friday’s plan was for me and Mom to get up and go and get some coffee and watch all the crazy shopping people. We weren’t going to go at 4:00am or anything, but we wanted to at least see the last of them. I woke up at 8:50am and didn’t hear Mom, so I re-heated my coffee (day number two of coffee on my nightstand when I awake, Dads are great!) and played on the computer a little bit. I stick my head back out again, still no sound from Mom, so I decide get in the shower. Finally at about 10:30am I figured she had slept enough and went into her room. There she was, wide awake, waiting on ME the whole time. She thought I had a late night and needed to sleep it off and I was thinking she was REALLY over doing it on this late sleeping thing. In sum up, we were waiting on each other and completely missed the shopper people, so we just went back over to my grandparents house to watch more movies and hang out.

So all this time I am thinking Dad is gonna come over to my grandparents house and then, surely, we would all get home together and THEN we could talk. Nope. Dad never shows up. And by the time we get home, he is asleep, but has mentioned to Mom that we need to get up at 7:30am because he is going to do a little pick’in and grin’in with his cousin and he would like us to come.

So I get up EXTRA early, get my coffee in me…prepare myself AGAIN to have this discussion (each day I had prepared myself for various moments in time, having slight panic attacks each time only to be disappointed when I couldn’t pin them down) and as soon as I get comfortable on the couch, Dad shoots up from his chair and says he has to go get his haircut.

I am feeling pretty sure someone/something is just fucking with me at this point in time.

So Dad goes and gets his haircut, Mom gets up, gets some rounds of coffee in and then we all get in the car to head to BFE where this gig is going to take place. 45 minutes one way with my parents. I decided that it probably wasn’t the best time to break the news. After all, seatbelts can only do so much and we were going at least 75 on the interstate. I feel certain an accident at the speed is going to hurt no matter what.

So I sit through the gig, which was spectacular, I absolutely LOVE hearing my Dad play his guitar and sing, and we all head back 45 minutes to their house.

We get in the door and Dad moseys on to the bedroom to put up his guitar, I start to sweat and pace the house, Mom goes to sit on the couch, so I start to make my way over to sit and right about the time I sit down she dramatically pops up again needing to go and do something, so I dramatically stand up and start pacing again. Of course, no one is actually noticing this all going on, I was just keenly aware of how slow time was passing because of this crucial moment in my life that was about to take place.

FINALLY, everyone sits down and I just BLURT it out. Ihavesomethingtotalktoyouabout. I am gay. You knew that right? RIGHT?! You guys knew??! RIGHT! ::blank stares:: Well, ok, well, you know, Krystal and I have been together for 5 years and I have known since I was 15, but it has been a difficult journey for me and I am sorry it took until I was 29 years old to tell you.

(they did have an inclination that I was gay)

And then there was a lot more blubbering by me, not to mention I had started to twitch involuntarily and was cold and sweating at the same time. And also shaking. As my friend Whitney says, “I was shaking like a newborn baby deer”.

There were some tears from mom, coupled with a few statements I wish hadn’t come out, but I do understand are part of the process.

“Well, I still don’t think you are gay.”

“Well, if that is how you CHOOSE to live your life”

I let her know this was going to be a process for her, just as it was for me, and that I would be more than happy to help her through it and also answer any questions she had.

She also asked me HOW I knew. Boy, that is a tough one to explain. I mean, how do you explain being heterosexual? All the same, I have some books I am going to pass on to her (she likes to read) and I think that can start helping with the coping process.

Dad said he didn’t need no stinkin book, he totally gets it. After mentioning to both of them that I was afraid I was going to disappoint them, Dad turned to me and said (in his strong southern accent), “Baby, I’ve known disappointment, and you ain’t it.” (I know, tears, right!) And that was all he said and all he had to say.

Mom cried a lot, which made me cry a lot, which I did NOT want to do, but it is pretty much impossible to hold in tears when you see any family member cry. I wasn’t sure if she was hurting or sad or what the hell was going on, but I was tearing right there with her.

In the end we all hugged for a very long time…almost too long and uncomfortable for me…and then Dad, in his oh-so-dad-way says, “I’m hungry, ya’ll want some Mexican food!? Let’s go eat some Mexican!”

Mom just sat there and cried some more and said she was going to pass on the Mexican and I told Dad I actually needed to get on the road anyway. God love him. He processes things so well. It was like that life changing moment for me was just as easy as deciding what to eat at Mexican food…and I LOVE that about him. He doesn’t dwell or make it any more or less than it has to be. He sits, hears what is going on, processes and moves on.

Mom on the other hand is going to go through some anger, more tears, and questions, probably send me at least two more texts about cute (male) engineers at her work place and THEN it will finally start to kick in that this is how it is, how it has been and will always be.

I didn’t tell them about the engagement. I thought that might be a bit too much at one time.

Remember me mentioning that Jacob had been kicked out of the house? He is living with my Dad’s cousin’s daughter. And they are dating. INCEST. SEE! I am not the fuck up in this family AFTER all!

Leia Mais…

Breathe In, GET OUT.

Everytime I sit down to write this post I get all anxious and just can't do it. SO I am going to make this quick.

I am not out to my family. It has been entirely too many years and avoiding confrontation is my second favorite thing. Mexican food being my first, of course.

I plan on doing the deed after Thanksgiving activities are over. Not the day of Thanksgiving or maybe even the day after...just the day when all the eating has ceased and it is time for me to go back to Savannah.

What has really brought me to this point is the engagement and therapy.

The main issue is that I have had since I was 15 to get used to all of this. I can only assume that my parents have a clue, oh, there are just too many clues, but we have never had the "official talk". Mom, still, on occasion, texts me about "a cute engineer in her office that is around my age...ohhh" I just ignore the texts.

Krystal and I have been in a serious relationship for almost 5 years now...what can I say, I am chicken shit. I am not quite sure of what. I don't depend on them to live, I haven't actually lived with them since I was 17 years old, I don't even see them but twice a year, I live three hours away, there is no major inheritance I am worried about.

It all comes down to just being a disappointment to someone. It is that same feeling like when you are watching TV and someone is crying so hard, in such pain, that you cry for them. I don't want to be that pain.

Of course I am imagining worst case scenario. For all I know they could be all like, "Oh, yeah, we totally knew that when you were five! What other kid would want G.I. Joe toys for Christmas!"

My going-to-be-30-next-year adult mind says that, logically, they will be upset with the loss of THEIR dreams and the way THEY had envisioned things going for me. I hope to help them the best way I can to let them know that those dreams aren't gone, just going to be dreaming to a beat of a different drum.

I am a relatively controlled person. I am OK with surprises or going off the beaten path every now and then, but for the most part, my life is pretty calculated, I have a good idea of what the next step is. In this situation, I am not even sure I can get my parents in the same room, at the same time. It makes it difficult to play out situations and what to do. DAMN YOU UNIVERSE FOR NOT LETTING ME HAVE CONTROL!!

Alright, well, before I throw myself into a complete panic attack, please just keep me in your thoughts. I will keep my Xanax close by and let's cross our fingers all goes well!

Leia Mais…

It's Long, but He's Short

Hello ladies and pimps! In grand news today, I must share that this no good punk ass bully of a miniature man was arrested last night:

Name: MARTINEZ, MICHAEL SR

Birth Date: 03/05/1968

Race: H Sex: M

Arrest Date: 11/10/2010 at 0020

Arrest #:

Agency: CHATHAM CO STATE CT

Bond: $4,600.00

Charge(s):

16-1-4 - CONTEMPT OF COURT - M

You probably don't know who that is, but that is OK, cause it is my fault for not telling you in a timely manner.

The church that we live behind has a parking lot that butts up to our house. In years past it has not been a problem that we have parked there, however, they have requested, due to the fact that they have a daycare center that has opened within the church, that we not park there. They even put up new "WE WILL TOW YOUR ASS!" signs. Just kidding about the "YOUR ASS" part; it is just a generic sign that says you get towed if you park there.

On street parking is a little scarce. On one side of the street you can fit about 4 cars, BUT two of those parking spots are for an elderly couple and are designated handicap. On the OTHER side of the street you can probably fit around 5 cars. The problem is, there are five people that live in our complex (two girls upstairs, us three downstairs)who drive five different cars and that isn't even taking into consideration the surrounding houses.

So punkaroni up there has been doing maintenance, painting and such, and is apparently allowed to stay there while doing said things until the home is rented out. About a month ago, KK and I were coming home from working job #2 and she was parking in the street and ended up in front of the house this guy is staying at.

I should probably also mention that this house that we are parking in front of got busted by the DEA. (Blogged about it here) The landlord apparently has a problem renting to forms of life that have any good qualities.

He yells over to her when she is getting out, "Excuse me...do you have PERMISSION to park in front of MY house?" To which she replied, "Um, this is a public street, you can park anywhere." He then stated, "Just leave it there and SEE if is there in the morning!" We then pointed out that he doesn't even OWN a car (he rides this ghetto ass blue and gold bicycle) He said it didn't matter if he owned a car or not, we couldn't park in front of HIS house anymore. Then he hopped on his bike and started to ride off, all the while yelling, "You done messed with the wrong nigga this time!! You done messed with the wrong nigga THIS time!!"

Sadly, it is quite apparent that he is NOT black. As Larkin pointed out, dirty Mexican perhaps, but actually he is just a mini Puerto Rican.

After such threats I decided to call the number on the "For Rent" sign. This lady answers and I ask her if she is the owner of the home on ____ street, she affirms, so I let her know that her current tenant has now threatened us for parking in front of HIS house and I wanted to know if it would be possible to set up a meeting with her face to face so I could explain the things that are going on in her rental property.

Turns out she is in FUCKING CALIFORNIA. I went on to explain that he was not the only one living in the house and he was also dealing drugs, OBVIOUSLY dealing drugs, right out of the house. We see no less than 15 people come in and out of the house on a daily basis. She says, and I quote, "Ohhh, he normally isn't like that. Hummm, I will talk to him"

WHAT!!? Is he 3 years old?!? NO MA'AM. Don't you fucking "talk to him". While you are over there in California doing whateverthefuckyoudo, I am sitting here be threatened by Shorty McEse about parking in front of a house he doesn't even own on a street that he doesn't own...do you REALLY think he is going to listen to you?!? Do you really think that he isn't going to try and do something to US?!? RIGHT.

So fast forward to last night (thanks so much for reading this far) and we hear a ruckus outside. Of COURSE it is him, yelling threats down the street at some unknown person. I mean SCREAMING, yelling. Same stuff..."You wanna mess with me?!? You want some nigga?!?" And so we took that PRIME opportunity to call the police. We just let them know, anonymously, that there were people on the street threatening each other.

They sent over people IMMEDIATELY. TWO cars. They NEVER send TWO! So Krystal and I watch from the laundry room, while drinking our Miller Lite. We then notice that one of the police officers is our friend Barry! Naturally, I call him and tell him we are looking out the window and that I PROMISE there are drugs in the house and if they can get any reason at all to get that fucker out of the neighborhood that would be great. He said that he got his name and they were waiting on the landlord to call back, but in the meantime he was going to drive around the corner and watch the house from afar.

SURE ENOUGH, another person comes up to the house to buy drugs...but punkass waves him away hurriedly...I am still on the phone with Barry at this point and said, "See that guy that is walking there...he just went up to the house to buy drugs and they waved him away...now he is going to walk down the street a little and a car is going to pick him up" And BOOM, just like clockwork, here comes the pick up car. We do watch this happen on a pretty regular basis.

Barry zooms up behind them and runs their tag and shit and they are clean, so he can't pull them over, however, he takes this moment to run fuckface and LOW AND FUCKING BEHOLD he has a warrant! Barry zooms (I am sure he wouldn't appreciate me referring to his awesome police speeding skills as "zooming") back over to the house and arrests him. YAY!

I have a feeling this isn't the end of the story and if he even remotely thinks that we called the cops on him then he is going to probably make our lives hell.

The gun is on the nightstand ready to go.

Leia Mais…

I Need To Find My Camera

Trooper Thorn has brought to my attention that I have failed to blog about Halloween.

Yes, that beloved time of the year. I was asked by many: "What are you going to be for Halloween" to which I answered, "Intoxicated".

Alas, time and money were against us and we were unable to dress up this year...but I most certainly WAS intoxicated. There was only one costume that I felt deserved some awesome accolades and that was Madea:

I have been slacking on the blogging lately, mostly due to not having anything to tell you guys. Nothing new has happened in a while and the ability to get together with friends to take magnificently awesome pictures has been few and far between.

HOWEVER, last night me, Bobz and the KK went to a wedding. Bobz was the usher. I know...who the hell has a wedding on a Thursday?!? I quickly forgot it was Thursday (or really even a wedding) when I heard "open bar" and "free food". Bitches...I have been surviving off of frozen burritos, Chef Boyardee and Cup O' Noodle (and of course beer) for the last month; I was gonna get me some GOOD food.

I had, in no particular order, sushi, a variety of gourmet cheese and crackers, (I called this portion of my eating excursion "cheese surprise" cause I had no idea what half the cheeses were) a roast beef sandwich, chicken curry, shrimp and grits, 3 chocolate covered strawberries, a fudge ball and about 6 beers, a glass of champagne and a glass of wine.

The venue was absolutely gorgeous! If you want to peep it, you can go here: The Mackey House People actually LIVE there and rent out the estate for weddings and other events. Freaking amazing place. I told the owner that I wouldn't mind having certain difficult decisions in the morning time: "Should I drink my coffee on the east or west veranda this morning?!?"

If the house was on a beach we would be having OUR wedding there...but alas, the closest thing it was to was the Amtrak track and a horse barn. OH! But we did get to see an opossum. Despite what people think or say, those little things are CUTE!

Did I mention we took full advantage of that open bar?! When we got home Bobby decided to do a gangsta photo shoot (while he still had the gangsta tux on rent) which started out clothed:

(please note gangsta Glock 40...yes, gun is real. No, of course it wasn't loaded. Didn't even have the clip in. Never actually been loaded in the house. Brother left it to me when he went to Puerto Rico...to which I am thankful. Never know when you will need it for a drunk photo shoot...errr...I mean if anyone was to break in.)

Then progressed to less clothes:

To getting downright near naked:

This weekend is the Bobz 32nd birthday celebration (actual birthday on Tuesday). I will make it a point to find my camera...

Leia Mais…