Photo Journal: Milan, Italy 9.2022

 My youngest went to Italy the fall before she graduated, which meant she'd be away from home for a whole semester without us seeing one another, which neither of us was ready to accept. So after I quit my job at the library, I booked a two-week trip to Milan (and a week-long stay in Rome we can discuss later) that almost convinced me to give up my American citizenship. And don't I feel stupid now, that I decided to come back to this sinking ship?

Anywhores, here are some of my favorite memories from my time as a carefree gal in the streets of Milan and other neighboring towns.

Lake Como ain't just for the Clooneys of the world

The actual Last Supper by DaVinci

A view from the top (of Il Duomo)

Only I'd run into a book fair abroad

Authentic bolognese in Bologna

Learning to make egg pasta in someone's home

Love & Balls,
Jaded
-----
and all the things that I used to be afraid of
suddenly it all disappear...
and you remain my most favorite thing
and everywhere I go you're here with me

Wherein I Share Tweets About Vaginas

*smooches...wondering why my vagina and I are enemies*
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maybe I should attend a workshop?

Jaded Photographs: June 2013 Edition

"The Life"

Man that was such a great day!

This is where I want to be, forever and always, uninterrupted. How can I make this happen?

*smooches...on my way to chocolate*
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I was feeling a bit defeated because I got a sunburn, but I'm better now.

Tales From The Motherland, Part 3

Climbing up the mountain
to see Las Caritas

I went back to Santo Domingo again in March for another mini family vacation, and it was AMAZING. Last year our trip was so short and under the cloud of a death in the family, and while it was nice it was also very lacking. This time around we had a few extra days to lollygag all over the island, so we asked my Tia Iris to take us to La Descubierta. And let me tell you, it was the best decision ever made EVER.

Part of me doesn't want to tell you about this place so as to keep it safe from your touristy feet. I mean, look at what you've done to Brooklyn! However, I will tell you a few things to at least give you a taste of what an amazing time we had, and also why I've decided to retire out there instead of here in the States.

At one of the many
local swimming holes

First of all, the town is about five blocks long and quaint as fuck. No Starbucks, McDonald's, Saks Off Fifth--none of that bougie bullshit America supposedly cannot live without. You can't really get a huge variety of foods--that whole "avocados don't grow here anymore" nonsense had me ready to leave--but what you do get is still delicious. There is dancing in the streets. Clothing...what is clothing? There are more chocolatey people than vanillas. The swimming holes have some of the coldest, crispest mountain water flowing through them. Kids are kids. And even when the power goes out for days, you find yourself more comfortable and at peace with life than you've ever been.

After a while, you get used to
the cold water.

There's a beautiful lake. Iguanas that walk up to you and say "que lo que!" Remnants of our Taino ancestors. Mountains; GLORIOUS mountains. And more family than I know what to do with. Haiti, just 25 minutes away by car. Sexy baseball players a few towns over (more on that later!). FAMILY HISTORY.

The girls and I had a lot of fun. I feel so lucky to have been born into the family I have, and to have roots in that island. I read three books and wrote the beginnings of five stories while I was there. What better place is there for me?

*smooches...itching to go back*
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only thing I don't miss? monster-sized roaches!

Jaded Photographs: May 2013 Edition

"Island Living"

I love that this is the place we get to call home at least once a year.

*smooches...planning for my retirement already*
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I can't even wait to go back next year. like, I've already planned it!

What Had Happened Was...:Catching Up With The Jaded Empire

Howdy folks! Just wanted to give a shout out to your patience given my impromptu blog vacation last week, but as always it was necessary. I'm in the middle of restructuring my priorities and trying to fit things into my life, and last week that meant blogging had to take a back seat. You understand.

Anyfucks, here's what's been going on:

1- I finally had my visit with an allergist (keep your mangy cats & dust mites FAR AWAY from me!) and the MRI of my lower back & spine. Child, first of all WHY ARE MRIs SO LOUD? YOU SEE HOW I'M TYPING? THAT'S HOW LOUD IT IS INSIDE THAT CREEPY COFFIN-LIKE CONTRAPTION. LOUD. AS FUCK. Second, I need the ENT folks to understand that I cannot fill my Rx for Flonase because I can't find my Rx card, and I keep calling the Union office for a replacement but their offices were damaged in the hurricane and they're currently milking that excuse dry and NOT answering phones. So no, Dr. Song, I've not taken the Flonase yet. Stop asking.

Finally, I cannot explain to you the torture that it is to sit in a chair with all of these concentrated droplets of allergens all up and down your arm for fifteen goddamn minutes while the doc waits for your skin to react. You know when my skin reacted? Right the fuck away. But I still had to sit for fifteen minutes and not move or scratch or anything. Added bonus? I got to walk around for the next couple of days with my arms all swollen and marked up. THANKS! His recommendation? Encase everything in my room to keep the dust mites away, steer clear of cats and, oh yeah, get a flu shot for the next zillion years of your life. Bitch, have several seats because NO on that last one.

2- My hair is still straight. I thought you'd want an update. I've been able to go over a month with it straight and my edges have hung in there for the duration. It helps that every week or so I add a little olive oil (yes, from my kitchen) into my strands, and that I pick it up every night and wear a scarf when I can (even though it comes off five minutes after I've gotten into bed. "S'okay. She'll be back..." I'm still trying to find a way to make my hair not smell so...natural O_o. I mean, after a month and a half of not washing it, the freshness is definitely gone. Luckily for me, there isn't anyone all up in my hair follicles anymore so I only marginally care.

But as of right now I'm trying to find ways of not mimicking my hipster nemeses and de-funk my hair until my next salon visit. And YES I know I could just go more often but TIME is MONEY and also MONEY is MONEY and well, that's even more scarce than my time.

3- There will be no Jaded Birthday festivities in NYC this year. Take a minute and let that soak in. I'm going to go away on a much-deserved trip to a place where the sun shines bright all day, every day, and I'm going to soak in all of that wonderful Vitamin D--probably while laying in a floaty in the ocean--and not think twice about it. There will be slinky bathing suits. There will be sexy dancing with hot and sexy men. I will give out fake names and phone numbers. And I will eat as if it's my last day on earth. All of these things are on deck because I deserve it and I'm worth it. IF you're super sad about me not having a birthday party, though, you could always just throw me a fabulous gala. I'll even promise to show up!

4- I am absolutely focused on my writing (so far) this year. Last year I was obsessed with my health and my fitness and whether or not Zoe was going to choose George or Wade, but I was really just hiding from my own work. I've started meeting with my writers group again to motivate each other and workshop our pieces, and I feel good about it. I'm going to clean up all of my unpublished pieces, send them out and find them a sweet literary home. I've been reworking a story into a format and voice that I believe works best and it's very exciting to see my word blobs become more and more coherent.

I've been mingling with other writers and event organizers and am making myself more visible. I still have to work on my social graces and actually TALK when I mingle but listen--Rome wasn't built in a day. I have to ease into this new social butterfly role, OK? DON'T RUSH ME! Also, expect more events from me. I'm just going to keep having them until you show up to one. YOU WILL EVENTUALLY HAVE TO SHOW UP TO ONE, DAMMIT.

5- I'm mentally and physically and logistically preparing for the shift taking place in my family real soon: K is going off to college in the fall and N is becoming more active in extracurricular activities. This means I'm either away from home more--chauffeuring Miss N all over Brooklyn--or I'm home more because there's no one to watch N anymore. It's not so terrible (so far) seeing as I don't go out as much as I used to, and nights when I have to because of networking events or readings, I'm confident she'll either be fine on her own or will just come with me. Fuck it- why not? It'll be like Take Your Daughter to Work Day only at night and in seedy bars...wait, let me rethink that...

So, hookers, what have YOU been doing?

*smooches...shocked that I had time to write this*
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actually, I stole the time from some other important shit that needed to get done. I'm still working on that prioritizing...

Why Monday's Post Was Late

I was keeping a promise to myself: Living more than blogging.

The First Borns + The Little Sisters

Hope your holiday was as great as mine!

*smooches...making memories with the people I love*
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so tell me, how many casualties were there on the Parkway this year?

Tales From The Motherland, Part 2

In Los Mina missing Grandma

When I was little, I remember combing through Papi's record collection in awe. He had so much vinyl; artists and bands I'd never heard of but were clearly his favorites. Soon, a lot of them became my favorite, too, because every Friday, after a long, hard week of working at an envelope factory in Union City, New Jersey, Papi would play his records on full blast while polishing off at least a dozen tiny cans of Budweiser. No one said shit to him about it, either. This was his well-deserved down time.

When I visited him in April I was saddened to learn the fate of all those records. I spotted them, stacked (GASP!) in a corner of a shed in the back of the house, moldy, dusty and falling apart. If Papi hadn't been nearby replacing the gas tank on the house I would have sat there and cried. These records were such a part of my childhood and now they were gone.

The albums were pretty much indicative of the house, too. First time I'd ever seen it was when Grandma died, and it was your typical little Dominican "city" house, complete with full bars all around the property to keep thugs out, but it looked like home because it had all of my grandmother's furniture from NY in it. Even though we'd just come from her funeral it was as if she were going to walk into the room any minute to say dinner was ready; we were sitting on her sofa, where we usually waited for dinner, after all. The entertainment center was the same; our bunkbeds were in the third bedroom; Grandma's pots were on the stove.

This time around, I barely recognized the place. It was falling apart from water damage and it just had that "I don't want to touch or sit on anything" feel to it. I took into account that Papi lives there with his brother; two single men, who are used to women doing all the housework, could really give two shits about moping the floors. However it upset me to see the house this way and that this is where my Papi lives. And then the records...that was the last straw. All of it screamed: GRANDMA IS NO LONGER HERE.

And if I didn't know it before, surely I could no longer deny it when face-to-face with Papi's old records, stacked (GASP!) in a corner of a shed in the back of the house, moldy, dusty and falling apart.

*smooches...mourning all over again*
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also, I need my successful writing career to arrive sooner rather than later because I'll be damned if I can't help my Papi live better, after all he's done for me!

Chicago On My Mind

View from the Field Museum

I've been threatening to visit Alex aka Jack in the Windy City for a while now, and this weekend I finally made good on my promise. What a difference a job makes on my ability to travel, you know? Anyway, let me say this: Chicago was never a place I was itching to visit (except for John Cusack's home in Evanston, which I didn't have time to track down this time around) but I'm so glad I did.

The food, first of all, was amazing. We ate at a Cuban spot, a Cajun spot and a yummy brunch spot and everything was delicious. I'm especially yearning for the tostones rellenos I ate at 90 Miles Cuban Cafe. I'll be cooking those at home sooner rather than later; trust!

Then, I must add, the city itself was correctly described by Alex as a "smaller, cleaner version of New York City" and I have to agree. For being a major city, Chicago is incredibly tidy! We decided it's because the city has and utilizes the alleys for it's trash instead of the curbside system that works so well (sarcasm!) for us here in NY.

Finally, HOLY SHIZNIT- THE BEACH IS ACROSS THE STREET FROM MY HOTEL! I'm in love with the entire concept of Lake Shore Drive and Navy Pier and Lake Michigan and I'm already trying to see if I can return in the dead of summer so I can chill on the beach in an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, yellow, polka-dot bikini!

Finally, someone lighter than me!

I also need to go back to ride the train, which I forgot to do this weekend, and to visit some more galleries, shops and of course, to party in Boystown. Oh yes, I shall return!

*smooches...already looking at my next travel dates*
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I have so many trips to take this and next year, though, I should pace myself.

Tales From The Motherland, Part 1

Last month I took a little trip to the Dominican Republic. It's been nearly 15 years since I'd been there last to bury my grandmother, and, coincidentally, this trip was right on the tails of K & N's paternal grandmother dying. We only had five days to make this a fun and memorable trip and we were determined to make it happen.

Let me tell you- we had fun. We saw lots of family, ate great food, relaxed and took in some sun. But my Santo Domingo is not your Santo Domingo. People hear that you're traveling to the Caribbean and they get all jealous and begin to daydream about white, sandy beaches, clear-blue waters and lush resorts. Well, honey, that's not where I stayed.

Remember East New York or Bushwick in the 80s? Well imagine that but 10 times more dangerous and gritty. Nearly naked kids in the street using plastic bags and strings as kites. Stray dogs so thin and lethargic they looked like they were about to die any second. Stray cats everywhere, begging for scraps. And everyone living behind metal gates and padlocks.

We did not have the key for that padlock.
Once we were locked in, that was it for the night!

I heard tales of a growing crime spree against women, similar to the violence occurring in Mexico. And before I could go shopping at the local Olé (aka the Dominican WalMart) I had to remove my nameplate. Apparently even a 40-year-old gold necklace with my name on it would mark me as a victim in the street. But they speak of it so casually, as in, "Oh yeah, this block is OK but over on 3rd Street? They'll kill you for five pesos." OH WORD?! Remind me to stay here on 11th Street, then. Thanks.

Not 3rd or 11th streets, but in the vicinity.

I'm from BedStuy, so I'm no punk. But the kind of crime and danger I was being warned about in Los Mina-the kind that made my grandfather's friend shove me into the house because it was after midnight and anyone could have snatched me and the girls off the street-that shit is definitely new to me. I mean, I'm used to riding the subway at four in the morning, traipsing up and down Minna Street without a care in the world (except for racoons; they're all over my block!). This snatching people for ransom...I just...

As we settled in for the night, Papi said to me (as he left to go sleep at his girlfriend's house-MORE ON THAT LATER), "Lock the door behind me and then prop up the chair up against it." EXCUSE ME, SIR??

I slept maybe two hours that first night, snuggled up with my babies in a full-sized bed, praying we'd see the morning and listening intently in case that chair began scraping across the floor...calculating in my head how much time it would take me to grab that shank Papi kept on the dresser.

For the record: 3.2 seconds. I wasn't going down without a fight.

*smooches...promising more uplifting travel stories soon*
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it wasn't all bad; I just had to keep it real for a second.

I Try Not To Be Jealous.

It doesn't always work.

This summer, I took my daughters to Montauk for Ks Sweet 16 and what I thought was going to be a pleasant, relaxing, amazing trip turned into the biggest headache of my life. It got so bad that I almost broke down and cried in the street in front of my girls. Why? Why else- frustration with my lack of money. Why I agreed to have this party in the most expensive beach town EVER is beyond me, but as soon as we got there my funds were depleted and I just wanted to not be anywhere anymore ever.

(And the Oscar for Lead Actress in a Dramatic Performance During PMS Week While on Vacation goes to...)

It was never so apparent to me how many bad financial decisions I've made in my life than this summer in Montauk as I watched the other vacationers eating out at the fancier places and driving around in fancy cars or hanging out in their suites or beautiful beach homes. It occurred to me that at the rate I'm going this would never be my life, and then I was upset for having cheated my kids. Especially when their friends have so much more...

Listen, I know it's stupid and useless to covet & regret. I don't begrudge anyone their wealth or success because I know my own misfortunes are my own doing. It was just frustrating because I wanted to show them a great time. I wanted them to experience a bit of luxury, an escape from the tiny matchbox where we live, to order from a menu and not have to care. I know it's not a necessity but I wanted it for them so badly and it pissed me off to no ends that I couldn't give it to them.

Instead of a beautiful weekend at the beach, we ended it all with the longest walk to the train (because I couldn't afford a taxi) and the longest wait on the platform (because we made a wrong turn and missed our train).

If you ask K, she'll tell you she had a great time (except for the walk to the train and her mom LOSING HER FUCKING SHIT ON A DESERTED ROAD) and her birthday was awesome. At least, that's what I'm hoping. If you ask me? I've failed my babies...

*smooches...looking forward to a better 2012*
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I WILL handle my money better and my kids WILL have a great(er) summer. you'll see.

Things To Do In NYC When It's HOT!

I don't think I will wait until the 21st to declare it officially SUMMER in NYC; I'm wearing skirts and dresses, sleeping semi-nude and I've bought a new window fan and shut down the stove usage until September. Dammit, that's SUMMER.



What does a Jaded NYer like myself DO when it's crazy hot in these streets? Um, not stay the fuck home, that's what, especially in MY apartment: guaranteed whatever the temperature is outside, it's 10 degrees hotter inside. It's my very own 24/hr sauna.

This year Mari will be staying with me for a bit while the babies are gone, but she'll be busy studying most of the time. I've given myself a final, no-holds-barred deadline of July 1st to hand in my thesis to FDU so I can get that damn monkey off my back. And hopefully I'll have my hands full w/a plethora of paying gigs to keep my cabinets stocked with Ramen and cookies. But besides all that I plan to be...

...at the various FREE concerts around the City. FREE, bitchezzzz, F-R-E-E!!!

...in the park, becoming reacquainted with my bike (since no one wanted to buy it) and writing til my fingers bleed.

...at Coney Island, acting like I ain't got no chores, jobs or responsibilities, and stuffing my face with fried shrimp on the boardwalk.

...in NJ, chillin in Mami's yard, dipping my feet in the pool, laying out in the sun, watching cheesy TV on her VZ FiOS.

...at the god damn BEACH, trying to convince myself and the world that I'm not really beige/yellow/lightskinded by tanning myself to death.

And when I'm not engaging in those activities you will find me in DC, MA, Montauk and who knows; this might be the year I get to return to DR and/or Cali *crosses fingers*

What are YOU doing with your summer?

*smooches...welcoming the Sun back into my life*
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this summer won't be like last summer. You remember- my nervous breakdown and all that jazz? Yeah, we're not doing THAT again. I won't let it!!

World Baseball Classic, Anyone?

Considering that it's PMS Week at my house, my kids are getting on my last nerve AND I was not able to get my cajun fries this afternoon (can you believe the Dept. of Health shut down the Popeye's near my job?!) I think last night's show on dealing with toddlers, with Jack as co-host, went pretty well.

Except for the part where BTR shut off on me for no reason... WTH was that about? Damn computers... anyways, feel free to check out the archived segment here, and leave me a comment on the BTR blog. Gracias!!

Now on with the show:

WOO HOO... It's back: The World Baseball Classic!!

Last time I was a bit peeved with Team Dominican Republic, but it's been a couple of years, and just like I forgave Beltran for not scoring in the bottom of the ninth in that last game against Florida in 2007, I forgave my compadres for losing to Cuba in 2006.

In March the first round of games begin; Team DR will be playing The Netherlands in Puerto Rico and I kind of want to go. First off I've always wanted to visit PR and second... Helloooo, McFlyyyy... it's BASEBALL! I have to go down there waving my flag and root root root for my team. Yes, MY team. Team DR.

My beloved Johan Santana is playing in Toronto for Venezuela, unfortunately, because, you know, it's where he's from. But I decided I can see him play all next year at Citifield. So while I love Johan dearly, I will not be rooting for his team in the WBC.

And A-Rod. GRRRR! Only Minaya brings more bile to the back of my throat than when I think of Alex Rodriguez. Yes, he's a great ball player and humanitarian, blah blah, blah but I plumb don't like the dude (to read a more diplomatic post on A-Rod at the WBC, visit Jose Vilson's Blog). But UGH UGH UGH!!! He's decided to play for Team DR. So I have to actually clap for him when he does well. AAACK!!

Whatever, I can't let that come mierda ruin my plans... I want to go to Puerto Rico, with my babies and Papi, watch our team play in the first round, and then maybe take some pictures in Old San Juan.

I suppose the upside to that is that perhaps I'll get to meet Madonna at the stadium...

*smooches...experiencing beisbol fever in December*
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So... who's coming with me?!

The Best Thing About Living In NYC...

...is going away for a bit and then coming back... seeing it through a tourist's eyes as we begin the descent into JFK and they say things like, "Oh my GOD! Look at all those lights!"

And I think, Yes, look at my City, shining bright. No other city greets me like this, twinkling with excitement because I'm finally home. Oh how I missed you, New York...

Even if it was FREEZING when I got here, even though it was a beautiful 80 degrees when I left Key West



*sigh*

That's Okay; I can't be too far from my City for too long, anyway.

So Key West was AWESOME as usual, Celia is ADORABLY ADORABLE as a momma-to-be, and I'm already plotting on my next visit down there.

The whole time I was humming this song in my head:



And as promised, here we are: Irene in a dress from the JUNIORS department, Celia as the glowing pregnant chick and me looking like I'm giving birth just two months after her.



I LOATHE my stomach!

Meanwhile, I found two garlic rolls on my table when I got in, leftover from the food Minnie and the girls had... one guess as to which greedy mo-fo hoovered it down as if it were her last meal?? Mhmm... I have ZERO self-control these days... I think I may need to get laid or somethi--

OOPS! Did I say that out loud???

*smooches...looking forward to snuggling up with N after just two days away from her*
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I found that lil heifer in my bed when I got home! she's lucky I love her...

While You're Reading This, I'm Probably Still In Paradise

"...If You Steal My Sunshine..."
Ahhh... don't hate... I've been living it up in the bright sunshiny skies of Key West this weekend... ahhh

I might even be nice and post pics later this week, and then maybe you can see just how HUGE I've gotten. I came for Celia's baby shower and I swear *I* looked like the pregnant one! Damn Curry in a Hurry takeout... naan and saag paneer is the DEVIL!

I Read, Y'all!
Speaking of of the devil- I've been reading this book, "The Gospel According to Judas," and it's really good. I highly recommend it. But now, I kind of want to read the bible to kind of compare and contrast, maybe even take a class on it, but not with some religious fanatic. I'd love to study it under the tutelage of someone who's reading the bible for its literary value. Where can I find someone like that??

Now I'm reading White Lines for the Bloggers' Book Club, and I hate to admit it... it's not that bad. It's not that good, but it hasn't made me puke yet. But I'm not even in the 100's yet, so who knows.

NaNoWriMo Update
My novel is only up to 3,000 words. SHUT UP. I need a real kick in the ass. Anyone want to help me cheat? WHAT? Oh fine... forget it... I'll write it myself...

*mutters* bunch of self-righteous mo-fos...

Okay, no, but seriously, I should have more time this week to catch up on my word count. I will not let you guys down... 50,000 words or BUST!!!!!!!!

THE Master Of Fine Arts, Redux
My thesis you ask? Two more read-throughs from being FINITO. I will be finishing it up on the flight home and then sending it off to one of my mentors as soon as I get home. OH HAPPY DAY!!! I might post it on my other blog and then place the link here later, so that you can all bask in my literary genius. Maybe.

Me & Diddy Can't Stop, Won't Stop
Next stop? My PhD... y'all WILL have to call me Dr. Penzo in the near future. Just accept it, bitchezzzzzzzzzzz.

WOW. Did I just get all conceited about a PhD I don't have yet? Imagine how intolerable I will be when I get it... OUCH!



But no worries; my head will never get so big that I'll forget my peoples... I ain't going nowhere [too far]. I'll always be just one URL away.

Besides, you can take the girl out of Brooklyn...

*dances*

Take that, take that... bad boy for life!



*smooches...making shit happen, people, making shit happen...*
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and your weekend? oh, it doesn't matter... nothing beats a weekend in Key West so save it!!! HA!

It Ain't A Party Until Somebody Throws Up

BUT- before we get to the mayhem and vomit, you need to know that

I

Love

ROAD TRIPS!

And I need to tell you this because usually, I loathe being in a car. Y'all know I'm not a car person- I get motion sickness, I have those anxiety attacks and generally don't trust those coffins on wheels; I prefer my feet planted safely on the ground.

And y'all know I could give two shits about labels and luxury items. I'm a laid-back person who's not into flossin' like that.

Plus, with the price of gas what it is, and the wack-ass Bush Administration threatening to drill in PROTECTED Arctic National Wildlife Refuge for freakin oil, cars would normally not be my friend right now

HOWEVER...

That was before I went on a road trip... IN A FUCKING BMW 535xi, BITCHEZ!!!

What?! You can't tell me shit about SHIT now- I NEED THAT CAR! I MUST HAVE IT!! Arctic National Wildlife Refuge be DAMNED! DRILL THAT MOTHERFUCKER UP!

You know how y'all said that one day I'll want my license, that something will finally motivate me to learn how to drive? Who knew that all it would take was one sexy motherfucking GERMAN!

And that new car smell... ORGASMIC. I tried to play it cool, like I didn't care. But the difference between this magically sent from heaven machine and every other car on the planet became more and more evident the more I sat in it.

People- the chair fucking HUGS you; and when I say hugs you I mean literally adjusts to HUG YOUR BODY. And the seats heat up. And lays back.

Is it legal to marry a car seat in New York? Let me stop talking about it... I'm getting dizzy...

*****

Oh wait, this is supposed to be about the weekend... almost forgot... but that damn car... I had sweet n sexy dreams about this car. Still am...

*****

OK- back to the weekend.

Friday; met up with two really cool people from a non-profit that has caught my eye. I'm pretty excited about it, but I don't want to jinx anything so that's all I want to say about it. Just know your girl is working towards the greater good, FINALLY, instead of sitting around complaining about shit.

Then I went to Modell's and FINALLY bought my Santana TShirt. Number 57 all the way. I don't care that he lost to the Yankees this weekend. He's still my boo. OOH- a thought just popped in my head... Johan, in a BMW... I might need a shower...

OK, focus, Raquel, focus.

Then I went to a bar in the East Village to watch the Yankees whoop the Mets butt. I almost cried. And why do Yankee fans have to be so darn obnoxious? Can't they just win and shut the fuck up about it? SHEESH!

When the game was over, I had to drown my sorrows. So I went to the Angelika and saw War Inc on my baby's birthday. Unfortunately, as much as I love love love John Cusack, I hated hated hated this movie. I even fell asleep during it. So disappointed.

Wait, wait... another thought... Johan + John Cusack + BMW = my dying wish... *sigh*

Got home at 3-ish, only to get up at 6-ish. Because I like playing with fire.

Saturday, 7AM bright and early, THE CAR arrives.

My new friend RC had made these random plans to drive up to MA to hang with Cathi for the weekend- he's back stateside for the first time in a while, stationed in GA, but was up here visiting his family. Funny thing is- I'm calling him my new friend RC because even though we went to the same High School and College, back then we were damn near mortal enemies.

Something about him being immature (he *just* informed me that he's two years younger than me and it explained so much) and me being a total, hard core bitch. But this weekend we were like the best of friends. I guess we've both grown up since '94!

We got there early, ate something at IHOP (NOTE- do not ever get their scrambled egg whites... they use fake eggs and it tastes like nothing mixed with nothing and has the consistency of chicken fat. BLECH!), bought some liquor and showed up on Cathi's door ready to party. She had her babies, though, so we had to pace ourselves.

Enter Six Flags New England; Cathi took the babies to the water park and me n RC (RC and I?) tackled some roller coasters. And I don't really do roller coasters anymore, you know, vertigo and whatnot, but RC dared me. Called me out. I don't back down from a dare. EVER!

That fool even made me keep my eyes OPEN on those rides. AND he made me get on that bungee ride, too, and I swore that I'd never ever ever go bungee jumping. I should've known better than to get on rides with someone who says stuff like, "Once you've ducked mortars and snipers in the desert, everything else is easy."

But I ain't gonna lie- I enjoyed every minute of it, and damn if I didn't feel free as a motherfucker flying through the air on that damn bungee cord... air through my hair, just swinging back and forth... holding onto RC for dear life... I'm not even mad that he bought one of those souvenir pictures that has me looking like a straight fool on the Man of Steel coaster.

Then we got back and made plans for the grown folks portion of the evening. We changed clothes and went to pre-game it at Jim's (Cathi's boyfriend). Don't worry- she had a sitter for the babies... we ain't that ghetto!

Jim fed us and agreed to be our designated driver/chaperone, as the rest of us tied one one. The evening included a mechanical bull, alcohol, dancing, more alcohol, and alcohol and alcohol. But not me, cause I know when to say when, (and here's where the vomit comes in)... UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE I KNOW WHO CAN'T HOLD THEIR LIQUOR (hint- I'm not talking about me OR RC).

Here's a photo slide show I put together, which was MUCH FASTER AND EASIER than adding individual photos, and had I thought of this sooner this post would have been up on Monday... D'OH!

On another drunken note, how crazy is it that, by simply flashing his military ID around town, RC got special treatment? He was all like, "Membership has it's privileges" and he wasn't kidding!

AND why did I wake up with like three bruises I don't remember getting? I didn't black out, I stopped at a decent amount of alcohol, still had my wits about me. I can't remember anyone gripping me up... strange... I wonder if it had anything to do with someone's heavy ass legs resting on me like I was part of the goddamn furniture!

Let me say for the record that I thought I knew the meaning of dead weight from having to carry my kids around after they've fallen asleep in the subway or in the car, but DAMN, after having that fool resting his passed out legs over mine like I was made to be his personal foot rest... I'm surprised I don't have permanent indentations in my thighs! He's lucky his job is to preserve my freedom, otherwise, I might've had to smother him with a couch cushion.

See? Best of friends.

Oh, but the best part? Driving around in my new LOVER with Cathi, watching people watch us... cause we were in a fly ass BMW- WOO HOO!!! That's right, RC let her drive THE CAR and I've never been so mad at myself in my life! If I had had my license already that could've been ME behind the wheel!

And of course, Last game of the Subway Series on Sunday? Mets 3, Yankees 1 (go Perez; do your thang, buddy! Viva Mexico!! lol). Then, Ahhhh... smooth sailing all the way back to New York City... all hugged up with my, er, I mean RC's BMW...

*smooches...really, really trying to get down to GA to see that car, er, I mean RC again*
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I might have to rethink my anti-machine stance from now on... damn Germans...

also, new favorite show: Top Gear on BBC. I watched an episode on Sunday and am officially a fan after that one show. hope I can find them online...

By The Time You Read This...

...I'll be halfway to Boston.

Can you say, "ROAD TRIP!!!"

Yup, even with the crazy gas prices, we drivin up to New England to hang with the party posse. And of course by "we drivin" I mean somebody else is drivin because, well, no one wants me behind the wheel. Something about me not having a license or knowing how to drive. HMPH! Details, details... I can ride the hell out of a bike, though! LOL

But this is my long, drawn out way of saying that I'm instituting a mandatory 24HR internet silence so that I can party in peace. This means no emails and no Sunday blog post... I know, I know, but you'll be okay, I promise! I have TONS AND TONS of archived posts.

First of all, in honor of my sweet honey-bear's birthday (TODAY!), here's a post I wrote about him last year. Everything I wrote then still applies today. He will always be the love of my life. ALWAYS!

Here's one I wrote about the time I had a mouse in my apartment. And here's another I wrote about Mr. Baseball (and here's the one I wrote about how I finally had to end it with him, despite the fact he was a great kisser and had the best fucking body EVER!). And OOOH, make sure you read this top ten list... I had loads of fun writing it!

Then of course you have to revisit the Perfect Man post; that was a fun one. And the letter I wrote to my reproductive organs, too. Finally, why not take a peek at what started it all- the very first Jaded NYer post?

There, that should keep you good and busy until I stumble back home after causing more damage to my liver. Just consider this post the equivalent of a clip show. You know, the episode of your favorite show they air when they need a filler episode? The one the writers phoned in? Yeah, this is the Clip Show episode of The Jaded NYer...

But just think of the tales I'll have for you on Monday!

*smooches...so happy that it is officially SUMMER*
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you know the best part about living in NYC? Leaving it from time to time, and then coming back with full appreciation of your hometown.

peace n hair grease, y'all... see you Monday!

A Pre-Summer, Mental Health Hiatus

Yo, my peoples, what it do?

Me? I'm hella tired! Do you know I've been writing on here non-stop for like two months straight without a real break? That I've posted like 450 posts since I came on here? I didn't know it would be, but this daily writing bullshit is exhausting.

Not only that, but I found myself getting a lil too attached to this world, letting things in the real world break down and fall apart, and taking it a bit too personal when, recently, there was a "disturbance in the force" out in blog land.

That whole mess was like being in the next room while your parents were arguing, and then having to sit at the dinner table with them and act like you didn't hear the fight... hesitant to ask Mom to pass the green beans because you're afraid she might throw the whole dish in Dad's face. And you just knew divorce was just around the corner. Then one day, you come home from school and there's only one parent there waiting for you... the other has already moved out.

I tried to not let it bother me, but bother me it did, disrupted my peace of mind even. And maybe it was all heightened for me because it's PMS WEEK at Casa Penzo, I'd stopped meditating, had too much on my plate, was getting zero sleep and because I have this NEED in me to fix things, be a peacemaker and make everything OK, but it actually stressed me out when I realized I couldn't do a thing to fix it... I wonder if this is how my kids felt when C and I split up? No wonder K & N are so CUH-RAY-ZEE!

I don't know... maybe I'm just too damn sensitive this time of the month... or those damn pork chops I ate at Nina's are fuckin wit' me still...

Anywayz, that's when I knew it was time to step back and chill in the cut for a bit. Concentrate more on my fiction, my thesis, my journals, hell, maybe even clean my bathroom before the sink up and walks out in protest! And let's not even get into whatever that shriveled up green thing with all that fuzz on it in the crisper of my fridge USED TO be... I believe shit is *actually* mutating in that there crisper... and I think it said something to me in Swahili!! I was kinda shook...

Soooo, The Jaded NYer is taking one of her famous mini-breaks. I think last time it was two weeks, right? Yeah, two weeks sounds about right. I know that last time it was a full-on nervous breakdown, but please be assured that this time it's just a cup of needing to get other shit done with a dash of mental exhaustion. Nothing to write home about.

A moment of silence for my extensive TO DO list and fragile psyche, sponsored by Ms. DiFranco...


...and we're back!

I will probably post pictures from tonight's PAR-TAY at Moe's tomorrow, but after that, you won't hear from me- on this blog or yours (if you have one)- for a good two weeks. That almost seems like blog suicide, right? But it's either that or take to a clock tower somewhere, and my hair hasn't been looking right lately so I don't feel like being on TV. *smile*

Besides, I'll be too busy lounging on the sandy beaches of the cyber equivalent of Tahiti to care. You know I love y'all like Amy Winehouse loves crack, but The Voices and I need some time to regroup and just, oh, I don't know, LIVE ;)

Peace n Hair Grease!
The Jaded NYer

*smooches...looking forward to the silence*
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I'm always reachable via email, so if you absolutely NEED to reach me and I don't already know you in real life: rpenzo@thejadednyer.net

PENZO OUT!

"...just show me a moment that is mine
it's beauty blinding and unsurpassed..."

I Have A Weak Spot For Rastafarians

I don't know what it is about them, but Rastafarians have always made me swoon. The dreads, the accent, the beards- I can't explain it. And of course, living in Brooklyn I'm surrounded by them (holla!).

I tell you this as a preface to the third and last installment of the birthday festivities in New England.

Sunday morning, er, afternoon, Tia (Nina's mom) fed me well! Homemade beans, rice, con-con (that's the crunchy part of the rice at the bottom of the pot... whatchu know about that? huh?), spaghetti (only in a Dominican household- rice AND spaghetti) salad, maduros... and pork chops.

Now, I don't eat swine no more, not for a long time now. But my Tia was up all day cooking something, and I knew Nina didn't eat meat, so... I took one for the team and ate it. My stomach hated me for it, but I ate it.

A few hours later we were headed out to hear a reggae band at Mike's Harborside in Newburyport. That place was hella crowded but soooo much fun. And your girl here was scooped up within a few minutes of being there. True, dude looked like that alien baby on "V" (remember that TV miniseries with Marc Harmon and dude from the Freddy Kruger movies, Robert Englund?) but dancing is dancing. And no, ain't no pictures of that fool... I have to draw the line somewhere.

Here, instead, is a cute pic of me, my Lava Gina tshirt, Nina, and some of her drunk friends:



I feel like a giant in this pic LOL!

And on the sly, I did tape 21 seconds of this drunk woman dancing... she stayed cracking me up the whole time we were there:



OH and chiiiild!!! We saw this one black chick- just pretty as can be, nice shape, tall, could probably get any man she wants. You know who she was with? Some old-ass white dude. Can you say, Anna Nicole? And yeah, I'm hatin'. So what??

I also have pictures of the cute, Rastafarian bass player in the band (Hot Like Fire- who actually lived up to their name!). My girl out in LA has already stated her opinion- he looks a hot mess- but she also despises dreadlocks, so I don't pay her much mind.



And Nina was nice enough to get him to take a picture with us. 'Cause I was too chicken to ask myself. Yes, me. Chicken.



After the show we went up to New Hampshire to, what? Meet up with Cathi! So I never got to go to Maine but I did get to see my girl! Plus, her dear sweet boyfriend agreed to watch her babies while, what? We PAR-TAY next weekend!! Man, if Celia weren't with child, I'd fly her up and reunite The Rowdy Girls fo sho!



We met up at the Portsmouth Brewery, which was pretty much like the Harvest Brewery, where we had snacks, desert and a beer sampler. Plus loads of laughs! Nina even found a cute bolero at a quaint lil shop... for TEN DOLLARS! There was a matching fedora, but Nina has a shopping addiction, so I really couldn't allow her to purchase it in good conscious.



All in all, I had a blast. Monday morning Tia made me a typical Dominican breakfast (platanos, salchichon, fried eggs w/onions... no cheese though... I told her it was cool...) and then we scurried to catch my 1:00PM crazy Chinese bus back to NYC. My lovely city... want to know how it welcomed me back?

"Ladies and gentleman, we're sorry for the delay. We're being held here momentarily because of a sick passenger at Smith and Ninth Street. As soon as we get the signal we should be moving shortly. Thank you for your patience..."

Bitch-ass F-Train...

*smooches...wondering what THIS weekend will bring*
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okay... now that that's done, can anybody explain to me WHY I'm hearing reports of thunderstorms for Saturday?? BOOOO to you, Mother Nature! BOOOO!

And thank you to Tia and Nina for putting me up, driving me around and feeding me :) Love you guys to bits!!

"I Swear The Alarm Never Went Off"

So... part two of the birthday escapades, which I will subtitle, "The Jaded NYer Misses Her Ride To Massachusetts...TWICE" goes as follows.

But first- I'm a lil salty because wack ass Foodtown was out of Oatmeal Teddy Grahams... is it too much to ask for those fools to, I don't know, actually have FOOD on their shelves? I mean, really!

Second, y'all know I have a mild case of OCD, right? Well, I left out two pics from yesterday's post, right, and a normal person would just let it be, because they weren't even that important to the story. But I have a mild case of OCD. So I almost added them in after the fact. But I fought that shit off, man. I will not let OCD take me down! Just thought I'd share.

Third, my professor is still tryna get me to go to Ghana... what the hell?! He's offering to wave tuition for me and offer free or inexpensive housing in Accra if I can fly myself out there. My head sooo wants to explode. I can't think about this right now...

Now back to the post.

You've read about my experiences with the crazy Chinese buses to DC already. But did you know that there are vans that leave from Washington Heights to points north where Dominicans have settled en masse? Like Lawrence, MA, for example? No? "Well if you don't know, now you know, ni**a..."

Yes, Lawrence is a town full of Dominicans like you wouldn't believe. So much so that people from Washington Heights go up there and say, "Damn there are a lot of Dominican's here!" And of course I gots family up there (cause, you know, we're ALL related LOL).

But anyway, I was scheduled to be on the 7AM van to Lawrence, which costs a lil more than the crazy Chinese buses, but is worth it because they leave you right at the doorstep of where you are going.

I got home from hanging with Lani at 3-ish, and decided that I'd not go to sleep. See, it takes about 1.5 hours to get to Da Heightz from my house, and I had to be there at 6:30, so I was going to leave at 4:30. See how sleep didn't fit in there?

Except that the alcohol was weighing me down, plus the fact that I'd only had 3 hours of sleep the night before, and that's when I came up with the bright idea of the hour and a half nap.

[insert hearty, sarcastic laughter here]

At 6:30 the people from the van company called to ask if I was on my way, arousing me from the sweetest nap ever. I asked if I could take the 9AM van instead. He was reluctant but said ok. If I left right then I'd be able to make it... except I fell back asleep for another 40 minutes or so. And did I mention I hadn't packed yet? No? Well, I hadn't packed yet. Or showered. There went the 9AM van...

Nina and I agreed that instead of calling to reschedule yet again with the van people, who by now probably thought I was some air-brained loser, I should just take the crazy Chinese bus into Boston, and she'd pick me up on our way to Cambridge to have dinner with some of her friends.

This actually allowed me to comb my hair, because otherwise I was gonna show up at her door looking straight rasta!

I arrived in Boston without incident- the crazy Chinese bus apparently only causes trouble when heading south- I met up with Nina and we went to Cambridge.

Oh wait- side note- before dinner we stopped in the mall. I bought some undies at Vickey's with my gift card (thanks, E!) and still had loot left on the card. And Nina gave me the iTunes gift card I had hinted at...I've already got like 10 new songs on my play list.

Here's one of them for you now. A free gift from me. Thank me later.

We ate at the Cheesecake Factory, and here's where I tell you that I've never been to this fine dining establishment, so I was not aware that the plates were twice the size of my head. Color me shocked when my dish came...

The best part of that meal? Nina's friends thought I was turning 19, maybe 20.

*blushing*

But, uh, *side eye* for Nina's friends... If y'all thought I was 19 WHY did you let me order a martini?? Hmph!

I know, I know, you're all like, "Enough with the yapping! Where are the pics?"

I only have a few from that night. It was during and after our stay at The Greatest Bar in Boston, where the Celtic fans were in full effect, the hoochies were booty-shaking in their undies and ripped fishnet stockings and the DJ poured a free shot of I-don't-know-what down my throat. The same DJ who flashed this on the big screen after the ball game ended:



And why did I "woohoo" that?? I need Jesus...

This one of Nina and her new fiance, Papi Smurf (I swear to GOD- he had that tattooed across his chest; said his grandmama used to call him that!), an aspiring ball player who said he'd probably fall back on "pharmaceutical sales" if he couldn't make it in the Italian Basketball League.



Nina and I were of the thought that perhaps, just maybe, he was already in pharmaceutical sales. Perhaps.

And this one is of me with the most awesomest sign in the world:



I just HAD to own it! Just picked it up off the street and took it with me without missing a drunken step. Silly me left it in Nina's trunk, but she promised to keep it safe for me.

But trust that I didn't need any help in the "drunk" department:



I was already there!

Since Boston is NOT NYC, everything was closing by 2AM, so we headed home... shortly after I danced with the tallest bouncer in the history of bouncers. I think I've actually found someone who was TOO TALL and I didn't think that was possible! Basically, if I'm gonna get a crook in my neck just to look you in the face? You're too tall.

Learn something new everyday.

*smooches...saving my tale of love and loss with a rasta bass player for tomorrow*
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in other news, I haven't watched my Soul Food DVDs in a hot minute... I'm craving me some Boris Kodjoe like you wouldn't believe!