15. Listen to Your Mother. Even If It Hurts.

sometimes i get the feeling that my mother is so supersaturated with advice that she can't help but occasionally explode with too much information.

and when you have to explode with too much information, very little attention is paid to how said information is shared.

or even what.

sometimes, it doesn't make sense at all.

other times, it's surprising just how much it actually does make sense.

and my mother tends to use any excuse to release some of her tension.

like awkward lulls in conversation.

or when you're already down.

in this case, it was after watching The Notebook.

as she and i were the only two at home for a weekend, we decided to have a movie night.

when the saptastic movie was done, i looked over and was surprised to see just how much my mother obviously secretly enjoyed it.

she sighed.

"So," she said, "what did you sink obah dah moobie?"

"...I dunno," i answered, "It was pretty cheesy and predictable."

"WHAAA?!"

i'd touched a nerve.

"Whaddyou mean, 'predeeeectaball?!' What to predeeect? Dey old!"

i shrank into my corner.

"DEY OLD!" she repeated, "What to predeect? Dey lib-uh, dey lub-uh, dey DIE!"

i was 15.

and, until that moment, full of hope.

14. Cognates Don't Embarazar, They Just Make You Look Like an Ass.

when i was little, i trusted my parents.

i looked both ways before crossing a street.

ate my broccoli.

watched Seinfeld.

my parents could do no wrong.

so when we moved to Peru, and i was terrified by the thought of having to learn a new language, i believed my dad when he told me, "Don't worry about it! Spanish is just like English!"

being just 7 or 8, and therefore so very aware of how awkward and painful it is to be "different," my dad's consoling words really sunk in deep.

"Really, Vickie," he told me, the morning of my very first day of school in Peru, "So many Spanish words sound exactly like English words. If you're ever in doubt, just think of the English word and you'll be fine."

Hmm, i thought to myself, If that's really the case, and I'm sure it is, this Spanish thing won't be so hard.

but dear Jeebus.

it was.

when my class got ready to go to the Spanish portion of the day (i went to the American school), our teacher divided us into two groups: the Native Speakers and Everyone Else/the Gringos.

i was the only brown kid who was grouped with the Gringos.

when we all nervously walked into the Spanish classroom, we found the walls lined with dozens of Spanish kitten posters, graffiti, and Latin American flags.

standing at the front of the room, beckoning us toward her, was a tall, dark woman wearing a shawl and smile.

the tension in my stomach loosened a little bit as i took my seat in front of her.

"Bienvenidoswelcome, littleoneschiquititos," she crooned, her bracelets jingling as she raised her arms and stretched them wide, pulling us all into some kind of hippie-dippy, spiritual hug.

she introduced herself and assured us that learning Spanish is actually fun.

everyone at my table looked doubtful.

she then told us she needed to get a better idea of our levels, so she put us into a line and instructed us to, when it was our turn, say any sentence we knew to say in Spanish.

But I don't know how to say anything in Spanish.

my stomach tightened again.

i tried to calm myself.

took a deep breath.

Okay, i thought, What can I say?

i wracked my brains.

I can say "I have!" Tengo! Easy! And I can say..."two!" Dos! But...what do I have two of?

desperate, i scanned the room for inspiration.

cats weren't an option, or windows, or tables.

the line was shortening.

my time was running out.

dejected, i looked down to the ground.

and saw my arms.

and, suddenly, i remembered my dad's advice.

Spanish words sound exactly like English words...

i got it.

i cracked the code.

Spanish is EASY.

and it was my turn.

proudly, i stepped right up in front of my teacher, a big grin on my face.

"Okay, chiquitita," she said, returning the smile, "Quepuedesdecir, what can you say?"

i took in a deep breath.

prepared myself.

"Tengo dos armas!"

her smile disappeared.

mine did, too.

i was confused.

"Que?" she finally managed to say.

"...Huh?" was my response.

"Quedijistechiquitita, what did you just say?"

"Tengo dos armas!" i said again, clearer and louder.

she stared.

"Tengo. Dos. Armas," i was starting to get frustrated, thinking she must not be on the same level as me.

Silly.

"TENGO DOS ARMAS," this time i flailed my arms around, pointed to them, made ridiculous gestures, trying to help her understand.

comprehension and relief dawned on her face.

"Ohhhh," she said, "Tienesdos BRAZOS, not ARMAS. Armas are GUNS."

my face fell.

my dad let me down.

i was in shock.

muy embarazada.

er.

just embarrassed.

i promised myself never to trust cognates ever again.

until, not too long after, i was proved wrong again.

some of my teammates and i were hanging out in the parking lot of the swimming pool, waiting for our practice to start.

i was telling them a story about a car accident i had seen, using mostly gestures as i still couldn't speak much Spanish.

everything was going well until i had to mime out the word, "car."

it was the one day the parking lot was completely empty.

i adjusted my imaginary rear-view mirror, put my car into Drive, and revved forward.

"Carro!" someone called out.

remembering the Arma Incident, i panicked.

"Nooo!" i replied, "No carro!"

they exchanged looks.

i tried again.

this time, i put the car in Reverse, made louder revving noises, and honked my horn.

"Carro!" another friend guessed again, sounding a little impatient.

"Nooo!" i repeated, sadly.

i made more car sounds, braked hard, made wide turns.

"Carro!"

i sighed and gave up, plopping myself down on the steps next to my friends, all of whom looked just as confused and frustrated as i did.

finally, a car pulled up.

excited, i stood up and pointed to it.

"Eso!" i shouted, "Por alla!"

they exchanged looks again.

"Si," someone said, "Beekie, es un carro."

my face fell again.

cognates are the devil.

13. Be Yourself: Wooing Is Pain.

i'm clueless and have no right to tell people how to woo their crushes.

i do, however, consider myself something of an expert in all things awkward and wrong.

here are my findings:

1. don't try to impress your crush by promising to build her a tree house.

2. don't try to deliver on said promise by stealing lumber from a nearby construction site.

3. and don't do it barehanded.

...crying when your mommy has to pull out each and every one of the splinters definitely isn't sexy.

4. don't stare.

5. don't hold on to a hug too long.

6. don't go on to spend too much money on iTunes or songs by artists you know she likes.

7. or research said artists and try to insert random, unnecessary tidbits about them in everyday conversation.

...poverty and too much zeal aren't sexy.

8. don't try to ignore them.

9. when you accidentally run into them in some place, don't try to do the same thing the next day, at the same time, in the same place.

10. when, at a slumber party, it's decided that there isn't enough room for everyone to sleep on the floor, don't try to impress her by volunteering to sleep in the closet.

11. don't invent a playground game called "Monster Chase" which really only needs two players.

and you're the monster.

12. if you volunteer to be Daddy in a game of House, you'd better live up to the job.

13. don't just sit in a corner and demand treats.

14. don't laugh too loudly at one of her not-so-funny jokes.

15. don't be awkward.

16. don't spend hours on a birthday/random gift for her and then, when giving it to her, say, "It's nothing, really."

17. don't crush on straight people.

or gay people, for you heteros out there.

18. don't go out of your way to do something "altruistic."

19. like run after a piece of paper someone dropped.

20. because you'll just fall on your face.

21. in the middle of traffic.

----

good luck.

11-12. Put Down That Donut. And Don't Answer the Door.

moving to Mexico City midway through my high school career was hard.

so hard, in fact, that in what felt like no time at all, i started to get...soft.

not in an emotional way.

...or just in an emotional way.

but in an, "Oh, my Jeebus...what happened to my biceps/abs/single chin?!" kind of way.

my inability to speak and make friends in the beginning was probably furthered by the fact that my mouth was perpetually full of raw teenaged angst: angst which took the form of many a donut.

soon enough, i was carrying the flabby weight of my emotions everywhere i went.

most people were tactful enough to let me quietly wallow in my own misery.

no one seemed to think it was necessary to fan the flames of my Juggernaut-esque spiral into heftiness and anger.

except my mother.

of course.

when we moved to Mexico City, it was because of my dad's new job as a defense attache for the US Embassy.

as such, he and my mother had to regularly attend fancy dinners and events, where they'd have to dress up in fancy tuxes and gowns.

him the tuxes, her the gowns.

but my mother, being the cheap-o Korean that she is, was reluctant to go out and spend thousands of dollars on new dresses.

she found a solution.

one night, as i was laying in my bed, recounting all of the miserable facets of my life (which was bound to meet a premature end, either by my own doing, or by that of my cholesterol), a knock came at my door.

i sighed and stayed still.

another knock.

"Beekieeeeee."

the sweetness in her voice made me suspicious.

i didn't move.

"Beekieeeeeeeee."

a little more urgency this time.

i sighed again.

got up.

slowly opened the door.

and immediately regretted doing it.

standing in the doorway, a big smile on her face, was my mother...wearing my 10th grade homecoming dress - the likes of which would've, at this point, only fit around one of my thighs.

my jaw dropped.

eyes widened.

stomach growled.

"I need to borrow yoh mirroh," she said in her playful, "innocent" voice.

"...Huh?" was all i managed to say.

"You hab-uh dah biggest mirroh in dah house, and I need to see eep-uh dis dress look good."

silence.

"What do you sink?" she asked, as she slowly turned on the spot, lifting her arms above her head and striking a pose.

i tried to ignore the sudden hunger pangs.

"Do you sink dis make me look goooood?" she said, posing with every syllable, "Huh? How about dis?"

i closed the door.

"Hey!" my mother shouted from the hallway, this time in a more familiar tone, "I need to borrow yoh mirroh!"

i stood and continued to stare blankly at the door.

my stomach growled again.

she knocked.

and kept knocking.

finally, i sucked it up and reopened the door.

and walked out.

and downstairs.

into the pantry.

---

*note: my mother is actually South Korean...*

10. Beware of Working Gays.

a little while ago, Governor Bob McDonnell, of Virginia, passed a measure that excludes the LGBT community from an anti-discrimination law.

but be cool, my babies: surely there's a reasonable explanation for this.

several.

probably.

i mean, it's a law, right?

the thought process probably went something like this:

1. gayness is a choice.

2. gays make bad choices.

3. if they were smart, they'd wanna keep overpopulating the planet.

4. crazies.

5. crazies don't belong in the workplace.

6. they belong in asylums and closets.

7. gays look better in uniforms/suits/pantsuits.

8. it's harder to make hospital gowns as flattering as pantsuits/suits/uniforms.

9. lack of sunlight wouldn't do them any good, either.

10. they'd be pale.

11. and powerless.

12. unless they were vampires.

13. in which case, they'd just be pale.

14. then we'd know for sure that they were evil.

15. it's science.

16. God invented science.

17. but He didn't invent gayness.

18. they belong in asylums and closets.

19. plus, i'm pretty sure they'd be checking us out all the time.

20. distracting.

21. science.

9. Never Walk Alone. On a Playground. In Daylight.

seriously.

it's common sense.

and nobody had to really tell me about it.

i found out on my own.

once, when i was in second grade, my class was walking across campus to the PE building when i decided to lag behind a bit to stop at the water fountain.

i wasn't bothered when my class disappeared around the corner; honestly, what's the worst that can happen on a playground?

but as i drew back from the fountain and took just two steps, i found out exactly what.

in a flurry of hair, pink light-up sneakers, and frills, a mysterious force socked me right in the stomach and pushed me onto the ground.

for the first couple of seconds, i was sure only of two things:

1. i'm on the ground.

2. there is a weird hip thrust action going on.

and it was over as soon as it started.

briefly, i managed to catch a small glimpse of my attacker: a girl i only knew by face and reputation.

the second grade weirdo.

i laid there for a bit longer, trying to let the recent events register.

a third thought popped into my prematurely lesbian-aware mind: How did she KNOW?

slowly, i sat up, stood up, re-oriented myself, and made my way towards my PE class.

when i rounded the corner, my teacher ran up; suspicious, probably, because of the disheveled state of my hair and clothes, and the look of pure confusion and wonder on my face.

"Vickie!" she said, "What happened? Where were you?"

i looked up at her, speechless.

i wracked my brain for the right words.

i wasn't even sure if there were any words in the English language that could completely do the story justice.

and then i remembered the James Bond movies my sisters let me watch.

and the Dawson's Creek and Titanic.

i tapped into my no-no vocabulary.

i came to my senses.

"She," i started, still hesitating, still trying to fully register what had happened, "Sh-sh-sh..."

"...Yes?!"

"She...HUMPED me!"

she stared.

"She...what?" she whispered.

"HUMPED!" i repeated loudly.

"Shhhhhh" she said, urgently, "What do you mean by 'humped?'"

thinking that she wasn't quite on my level of vocabulary, i decided to help her out by demonstrating.

"Humped!" i said again, thrusting my hips, "HUMPED!"

she immediately grabbed my shoulder, "Stop that!"

i suddenly remembered why that word was in my no-no list.

i thought i was in trouble, or that no one would understand.

then, out of nowhere, a classmate of mine, a girl, came out from behind the teacher.

her face was streamed with tears and it was obvious that she had been listening the entire time.

my teacher and i considered her for a shocked moment before she finally managed to sob, "ME, TOOOOOOOOO!"

so, really, i learned two important lessons:

1. never walk alone.

2. i'm not the only secret lesbian in second grade.

8. Get a Job.

i'm a junior.

meaning it's time to haul ass and think about my "future."

i'm not ready.

how do i know?

1. i have tons of homework that i need to start on.

2. i'm on facebook.

3. pantsuits scare me.

4. i'm studying "humanities."

5. ...i have no useful "talents."

6. i cried during The Graduate.

7. one morning, i woke up and found an unfamiliar toothbrush next to mine.

i found out it was my girlfriend's.

and panicked.**

8. i still think Jack Black is funny.

9. the biggest draw of having a baby is being able to dress it up like a little person.

10. i follow Dumbledore's teachings.

11. i get frustrated when i try to do arts and crafts.

12. i make weird, uncontrollable faces.

13. i make an ass of myself just to make people laugh.

14. i make inappropriate jokes/puns.

15. and laugh at them.

16. ...sometimes by myself.

17. i don't know how to flirt.

18. or talk to people, period.

19. i rely on facebook for most social cues/advice/communication.

20. when i "like" someone, i blush whenever they're nearby.

21. or say uncomfortable things.

22. or stare.

23. when i got an email that reminded me that i could graduate early, i got nauseous and almost cried.

24. Away from Her and On Golden Pond make me want to get cryogenically frozen.

25. i considered purposely failing one of my classes so i would have an excuse to stay an extra year.

26. i'm going to go to grad school to stall.
---

i'm not ready.

**girlfriend, this was a momentary panic. really. it was silly. ...please don't let this be one of those things that you hold against me...

7. Nobody Likes Shy People.

my mom likes to give advice.

but she's crazy and Korean and mean.

sometimes not all three.

but always at least two.

from as far back as i can remember, the things that i've learned about myself and of the world came from the very skewed and altogether tainted perceptions of my mother.

for instance, the fact that i'm weird and awkward has been mentioned several times a year, by her, since i was the age of 4.

[more recently, she told me that, "It's lucky you're a lesbian becuzzah girl tend to like awkward people. Look at me and yoh Daddy."]

and i remember the first time.

as the youngest of three girls, my quietness was kind of a blessing.

i never cried when i was a baby, and if i did, it was easy to console me.

i hardly ever spoke.

i never really got into fights with my sisters.

and, unlike the older two, i wasn't nosy or hyperactive or overwhelmingly curious.

i just...was.

when the oldest, Olivia, was in kindergarten, her teacher would occasionally call home and complain about how much over-sharing Olivia would do.

...Olivia was the kid who would tell the other kids how babies were made.

or about abortion.

Annie would get calls home, too, because, being one of the smartest kids in class, she would finish her work early and prevent the others from doing their work by being too chatty.

when it was my turn to start kindergarten, my parents were sure they'd finally get a break.

5 or 6 months of bliss: not a peep from my teacher.

until one night, when they found out why.

i was sitting in my room, playing with my action figures, when my mother slowly and cautiously walked in.

she quietly watched me for several moments, like she was waiting for me to come clean or break into a fit of hysterics.

"Beekie?" she finally said.

i put my toys down and looked up at her.

"Ah you unhappy?"

"...Huh?"

"Yoh teachah just call. She asked ip you were unhappy."

i stared.

i didn't know what she was getting at, especially since she didn't seem angry.

i'd never seen her look just politely confused before.

"She says you habn't said a word to anyone in 5 months..."

i kept staring.

is that weird? i thought.

she took a seat next to me.

"Ah you unhappy?" she repeated.

as always, i just didn't know what to say.

i shrugged.

"I don't think so."

"Beekie-yah," she started, seriously, putting a hand on each of my shoulders. she sighed.

i was confused and worried.

her level of concern was new to me.

"Beekie-yah," she started again, "Nobody likes shy people."

i felt my eyes go wide.

my pulse quickened.

i panicked.

she read my face.

"No, really. Shy and quiet people make odah people peel uncomportable."

i thought back to all those times i didn't say anything.

unanswered waves.

awkward smiles.

how many people have i made uncomfortable?!

"So try to pix dat, okay? Odahwise, people gonna sink yoh weird."

she patted me on the head.

"Nobody likes shy people, okay?"

she left.

and i was scarred.

and i'm pretty sure i'm weirder than ever.

6. Confederates Need Remembering, Too.

recently, Governor McDonnell, of Virginia, declared the month of April "Confederate History Month."

this declaration comes not long after he and his attorney general's attempts to encourage discrimination against LGBT individuals in Virginia universities.

consequently, he's gotten quite a bit of flack for his radically conservative actions.

...the latest in these selective and conservative actions was the governor's decision to exclude any mention of slavery in his seven-paragraph Confederate History/proposal for the Month.

but really, Liberal-Minded Media?

what's the matter with polishing up some unpleasant, wishy-washy details, between friends?

you're all overreacting.

i mean, the Confederates deserve as much respect and remembrance as any other culturally/racially/socio-economically oppressed sect of society, right?

plus, Confederacy is so much fun!

i even googled/wikipedia'd it to make sure.

here's what McDonnell must've been thinking:

1. when else would i be able to wear my wizard hat?

2. slavery is soooo depressing.

3. plus, it got shiz done.

4. plus, it was ages ago.

5. let's face it, Lincoln was kind of a tool.

6. wizard hats > top hats.

7. i <3 secession.

8. equality is for pansies.

9. it never hurts to remind people of how white Virginia is.

10. and of God.

11. there are way too many heathens in Virginia these days.

12. gays, i mean.

13. gays and brown people are taking away the rights of good people.

14. er, straight people.

15. and Christians.

16. ...and white people.

17. right people.

18. they're everywhere now.

19. the wrong people, i mean.

20. er, "different" people.

21. people judge me if i hang up my Confederate flag.

22. or deny people equal rights.

23. sheesh.

24. i can't say anything anymore.

25. but maybe if i remind them of how important the Confederates were, They'll get off my back.

26. Confederate History Month.

---

it's okay, McDonnell: this multiracial, queer woman has your back.

no worries.

5. No, "Gullible" Isn't Written on the Ceiling.

over the course of my life, i've fallen for many a prank.

turned bright red over many an embarrassing revelation.

secretly held a grudge against many a jokester.

consequently, there has also been a building-up of clever retorts or potential pranks i could pull to avenge myself.

but, being the peaceful, live-and-let-live person that i am [and pansy-ass], this build-up has never seen the light of day.

so, in honor of April Fool's Day, for those of you who DO have the guts to put the real jokesters in their places, or out-joke them, i offer up a list of "Suck on That!'s:"

1. i'm straight.

2. i'm pregnant, with twins, and one of them is yours/your mother's.

3. i'm British.

4. this isn't my real leg.

5. JK Rowling is my pen-name.

6. The Orphan was based on my life.

because i'm actually 60.

7. my parents got me off the Black Market.

8. i'm White.

9. "you're a dumbass" is written on the ceiling.

10. doctors have recently discovered that my antibodies can cure cancer and AIDS.

11. i'm weird/awkward/frumpy by choice.

12. the term "brains and brawn" is based on me.

13. i'm mostly brawn.

14. bullets are my only weakness.

(so Suck on That!)