ChinoValdez.com

Major Discomfort

You guys all know how much I hate high school reunions, right? Especially with those people I never really gave a shit about. And so, much to my chagrin I was forced to recently actually hang out with someone I went to high school with that I would have never,ever chosen to hang out with under normal circumstances. Here's how it went down: Remember how I told you I went out with Young Nef last weekend? We met up with one of his friends, who in turn invited some of his friends, and so on. While watching one of the bands play, I noticed this girl that kinda looked familiar to me. I turned to Young Nef and told him that I knew the girl from somewhere, which meant I had to avoid her at all costs. But thanks to all the drinks my boy had, he decided to hit her up to ask her why she was pretending all night that she didn't know me.

Before I tell you about the awkward conversation, I want to write about the observation I made. It's an interesting thing how during different stages in your life, that is who you will remain in the eyes of those who knew you only at those specific stages. That sentence didn't even make sense to me. Let me get specific. My boss at my first real job, for example; If she were to hear my name now, she'd probably remember me as the lame kid who fucked up all the time and didn't really take things too seriously. Clearly I've evolved, but she wouldn't know because she doesn't know me anymore. Or because she might be dead. Not too sure. But you get what I'm saying now, right? So, it's pretty freaky to hear somebody talk about you as if it was 10 years ago. Back to my story...

So she comes up to me and tells me she would've never recognized me if Young Nef hadn't told her who I am. She says, "As soon as I heard your name, though, it was like how do you forget him!" (For real) So, then I say, "I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

As fate would have it, we ended up at a bar, where she promptly decided to sit by me. And in agonizing details, she spent the next 30 minutes telling Young Nef who I was in high school. Apparently, we went to jr. high together as well, so she was able to take it way back. I have to tell you, as much as I love being the center of attention, this was one of the most uncomfortable conversations I've had in a long time. And Young Nef, being a drunk little shithead, kept asking questions. So apparently, I was the most outgoing, best acting, coolest, most popular guy in school. "Haven't you seen his yearbook? He's on every single page." And I couldn't remember one thing about her. Not even her last name. And I wanted to tell her all that shit was just an act. There was only about an ounce of honesty in my high school persona. I was like my own stage dad crafting this person I thought I had to be back then. And if she thought that guy was cool, she should get to know the real me. But I didn't want to continue the conversation.

So I turn to Young Nef and I say, "Dude quit asking questions! I'm done talking to her." He says, "I don't really care about what she's saying. I just want to keep looking at her tits."

Obsessed

It began in 1987 with the HBO debut of La Bamba. My dad recorded it for us on VHS. And I watched the shit out of that video. I watched La Bamba in the morning, in the afternoon, and in the evening. Sometimes all in one day. To this day, I can literally recite the movie from beginning to end. La Bamba was a family thing. The Mom's loves it. The Brothers love it. I was obsessed. I re-enacted my favorite scenes for relatives all the time. I still watch it an average of five times a year.

In 1993, Poetic Justice came into my life. And the same shit. I watched that over and over and over. For God's sake, I threw a party to celebrate the 15th anniversary of its release. This movie too, I could recite from beginning to end. I would literally watch this movie every single day from 8th-11th grade. I'd force my friends to learn the "Justice" part while I played "Lucky". It was sick. I haven't watched this in over a year. But I'm always feenin' for it.

In 1995, my friends and I discovered Clueless and it was all over. The Clueless lingo became a part of our every day vernacular. We'd all crowd into my room and watch that movie at least once a week. We'd pose for pictures as the characters from the movie. We really, really liked it.

Somewhere in between, I found Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Still my uncontested favorite movie of all time. I love me some Ferris Bueller. I was never quite as obsessed with this movie as I was with those prior to it, but it's such a magical movie to me that I watch it as often as I possibly can.

And this has been my four go-to movies. Whenever I have to try and pick something to watch from our collection, it inevitably ends up being one of those four. And no movie has ever come in between. Until now. Since we bought the movie, I've had this incessant need to watch I Love You, Man. Over and over again. I love that fucking movie. I'm sure it's because of how relatable it is to me, but it is just freakin' hilarious. And if I had more time, I'd watch it even more.

Back For Good

Yo! So, enough with making excuses for myself. And enough with the false promises. I'm back. For real. Yes, I've had a pretty shitty month or two of blogging. I've been in a weird place. It's like I have every intention of getting on here and posting something for you all, but then I go to do it and...NOTHING. I certainly feel like those of you who still bother to check for updates on this thing expect something at least decent. I haven't been able to even come up with that. But on the real, you know when you've got a million and one things on your mind...certain things have to take a back seat? I let that happen with the blog. My bad. Because this is probably one of the most important things to me. So, my bad. But I will give you a pretty lenghthy update and then we'll go from there.

First things first...the weight loss. We are still all good. I still haven't weighed myself, but the clothes keeps getting bigger and bigger. I've had to put away most of my wardrobe because it was starting to look pretty ridiculous. So that's good. I'm getting more and more comfortable with getting on the treadmill at work again. I used to have the fat man complex a few months back, thinking everyone was staring at the fat guy on the treadmill. Not so much anymore. Mostly cause I'm not as fat, but also because, dare I say, I'm actually starting to enjoy it. I've got this challenge going with myself to actually run a mile under 10 minutes. For you fit fuckers out there...it's nothing. But for a fat guy like me, it would be a major, major accomplishment. The closest I've gotten so far is 13. I just need to push myself a tad bit further. Every time I'm ready to give up, I picture I have that crazy bitch trainer from The Biggest Loser yelling at me. One more shirt size to go before NYC.

Grad School is going on the backburner. I'm so in love with the idea of putting together this show I'm working on, that it's all I can think about. For the first time in my adult life, I am doing something I want, not something I feel I need to do. And I'm doing it for myself, not because I'm trying to make some one else happy. The more and more I write, the more it feels like it can actually be something someone other than La Shy Girl and The Mom's would enjoy watching. Grad School will have to wait. And when it does happen, I'm just going to do like Chicano Studies or something. Really, whatever's easiest. No shame.

Oh, and check this out. This last Friday, I went out my little buddy, Young Nef. Quick intro: When I was still working part-time recreation jobs I met this little dude that I ended up mentoring through jr. high and high school. His family then took me in. I'm Godfather to his little brother and everything. Anyway, he's 22 now and every once in a while we still get together for old time's sake. So, we go to this Chicano Power free art show/concert/bar in the wonderful City of Los Angeles. (Right now...FREE IS GOOD!!) As we get ready to leave, we all gather outside to wait for the rest of our group and I start to have a conversation with the female security outside. I realize that her accent is kinda familiar and I ask her where she's from. At first she tells me that she's Mexican, but then she can't remember what part she's from. So I call her bluff. She then confesses to being from Nicaragua. So, I guess it's normal to be embarrassed to be from there? I tell her I'm half-Nicaraguan and she asks me what part I'm from. I explain that my dad was born in Granada. She then tells me that I must be Jewish. I say no, I was actually raised Catholic, but have since lost all faith. But that was beside the point. Anyway she begins to tell me how every Nicaraguan in this little town of Granada is Jewish. I say, I'm pretty sure my grandmother raised my dad Catholic as well. Then she goes into this whole sage speach about how we all go back to our beginnings and eventually I will once again be a Jew. She said all it takes is something that initiates interest for me. Perhaps, maybe our conversation would be that impetus. For real. That conversation happened.

Tired

This has been a pretty weird week. I have been unusually busy at work, therefore, getting home tired and uninspired. It's Friday now and I kinda don't even know where the week went. I can't recall having one real conversation with my wife. I can't remember having any interaction with friends. The only socializing I had was Wednesday at The Mom's. I helped The Sixter bleach Brother #2's hair after losing a bet with Brother #1. And that's about as much as I remember. It's nice to be busy, but in my job I'm busy because more people are in trouble. More people are struggling. It is exhausting. And this morning I feel like the life has been sucked out of me. It's like I've been dropped in some huge hole and can't climb out of it. I can't imagine having to keep up this schedule all the time. It would drive me crazy. But the weekend is upon us. And I want to do nothing but spend time with LSG. Maybe get some alcohol in my system. Just a little.

Called Out

So I get a message from The Female Bestie earlier today regarding my punk comment about her birthday celebration in the last post. Truth be told,  I knew she'd be reading it and thought I'd throw in a little playful jab. I totally got called out on it. And it put a huge smile on my face. For a few reasons....one, I realized how much alike we continue to be. I probably would've been pretty fucking irked if I'd read it coming from her. Two, it reminds me of how real our friendship is. It's so refreshing to know she's completely comfortable in calling me out. That's some real shit, there. And yes, I'm completely apologetic...completely...but really was just trying to get a chuckle out of her. My bad. So a major Big Up's to The Female Bestie for keeping it real. You're a firme ruca, esa. Much love.

All Over The Place

I'm living the life I always wanted to live. I'm blessed that way. Through some hardcore determination and probably with some luck, I've managed to get to a place where I am pretty content. By no means ready to settle...but happy for now. The greatest component of my joy is having La Shy Girl to share everything with. Prior to her, I was always the guy that searched for relationships. Every girl that showed even the slightest bit of interest would eventually become my girlfriend. There were plenty of insecurities I had to work through...trust me. I'd quickly realize I didn't belong with that person and I'd quickly move on. I never quite got the concept of casual dating. It always had to be serious for me. And, although, I knew I wanted to marry and have this life, it wasn't until LSG that everything just fit. Everyone else was just like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole. And although, there are plenty of things I still haven't done...but will get to, I couldn't imagine things working out any other way. This is the life I want to continue to build on.

There are two reasons I'm writing this. One, because I've had several internal conversations with myself over something I said to someone a few weeks back. And two, because of a conversation I had with my good friend also a few weeks back. We'll begin with the first scenario.

When out celebrating The Female Bestie's birthday, I was upset over leaving the club at an hour even a 62-year-old would scoff at. Somehow we started talking about La Prima's travel history. Someone said something about how well traveled she is. I reached into the ugliest part of my soul and uttered, "I would be too if I still lived at home." Come on, Chino. That was just ugly. And it haunted me for a while. I couldn't quite figure out why I would say that. Jealousy would be the first natural thing to pop in your head, right? But I'm not sure that's the case. Yes, there are plenty of things La Prima has accomplished that I can only hope to at least take a shot at one day. And I'm proud of her. And while I haven't yet achieved some of those things, I've got the greatest thing of all...true love. And, well, she's still working on that. I still can't justify my actions towards her that night. I know that we each choose the direction we want our lives to go in. She has chosen a different path than mine. And neither of ours is better than the other. Half the places she's gone to, I have no desire to see. And one of my biggest dreams is set to become a reality at the end of the year. I have nothing to be jealous about. She, on the other hand has a wild spirit, not quite ready to settle down. I'm sure my life is not one she envies. So, maybe I just felt like being a dick that night. I don't know. But I still feel terrible that I ever said that. My bad.

The other thing...I was having lunch with my friend and we started discussing her most recent relationship. As she was telling me about how things didn't work out again, I couldn't help but think back to who I was B.L.S.G. I looked in her face and I saw that longing to find that one person she's meant to be with. I tried so hard to say the right words and I'm not sure I succeeded. All I know is that she is truly a fantastic human being with just the kindest spirit to offer up. And I didn't have the courage to tell her, I too, searched for "forever" with everyone I was with. I tried so hard to create feelings for people I was 100% incompatible with. I made excuses to myself, like, it's okay if she doesn't talk...that way I get all the attention. Or, it's okay that she tries to dominate my life, at least I'm not alone. And all that shit was all in vain. I'd question what was wrong with me, for not being able to make any relationship work. And then I met LSG and you know the rest. But I wanted to tell her not to trip. Because she is too good of a person to be alone forever. And some dudes are meant to just be a one-time deal. Don't try and make them some one they aren't meant to be in your life. We waste more time like that.

So, this was a little all over the place...but hey, at least I wrote, right?

Cepillin

Apparently, I used to love this dude when I was a little kid. HOLY SHIT, MOMS!! Why would you let me watch some creepy pedophile dude in clown makeup??!!! I don't get it...

Open Letter to Our Focus

Dear Little Red Focus,

By now you've probably figured out that you're not coming back home. I can't think of a kind way to put this, so I'm just going to come out and say it: You've been replaced. Yes, you have been good to us. For nine years you've proven to be a pretty reliable little car. Well, at least seven of those years you were. Lately, though, you've been trippin'. And it's not your fault, it's probably our's. We didn't give you the attention you needed. No doubt about that. In the past year, I no longer felt safe with La Shy Girl driving you, so I took over. Over the last few months, even I didn't feel safe. And truthfully, you just weren't worth putting more money into. So we've let you go. When the salesman drove you away, I wonder if you heard me sing "It's So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday" by Boyz II Men. The truth is, you've been with us from day one of "us". No matter how bad things got between us at the end...no matter how many times I had to pull over on the freeway to restart you...I'll never forget how excited I used to get to see you pull up in the driveway at the crazy ex-roommates'. I'll never forget how you got me out of driving to lunch because my friends were too scared to get in you (I think it was because you shook so much). Thank you for your many years of service. You'll be missed...a little. 

Love,

Chino

P.S. I've attached a picture of your replacement...just to show you LSG is in good hands. 

Another One On Siblings

A couple weekends ago I had the opportunity to hang out with some of my younger cousins. By younger, I mean 16 and 20. Anyway, somehow we started talking about their older sister (who, for the record, I absolutely adore) and how much they "hate" her. I asked why the harsh words...and when they started telling me why, I couldn't help but internalize what they were saying. They feel their sister only calls them when she needs something. She forgets to include them in certain plans. She constantly is trying to tell them how to live their lives. Let's just say it sounded kinda familiar to me. Even though I should've known better, I then turned to my brothers and asked them if they ever tell anyone they hate me. They said no, but instead neglect to even tell people I exist. Nice.

I don't think I'm a bad brother. I'm certainly a distant brother. As I've written before, my brothers and I still have not come up with the most effective communication system. I'm not sure why. I don't think any of us truly dislikes another...we're just each in our own little world. And, yes, my advice is never requested...but you best believe I'm always trying to give it to them. I don't ever expect either of The Brothers to actually listen to me. But I know sometimes they do. And even though they will never actually thank me...I know they're grateful. They will, however, never hesitate to tell when I need to shut the fuck up and mind my own business.

My point is, it's easy for me to look at them and try and tell them how they should be doing something based on what I think is the right way. I think I make some pretty valuable points. But I’ve never bothered to put myself in their position. I mean, here’s some douche who moved out when they were 16 and 14 and who they see once a week since trying to tell them what to do. However, I’m still big brother. I still care about them. I still can see decisions that are not the smartest. So, if I can try and influence their choices…why the fuck not?

It’s a delicate balance…I can appreciate that. It’s different when your siblings are closer in age, I imagine. You grow up together and you experience things at the same time. But that’s not the case with me. Obviously, I would like my brothers to think of me as an older, much wiser person they can turn to. But I also am not oblivious to who my brothers are. That’s not going to happen. And as far as my cousins go…I know their sister loves them as well. And maybe when they’re a little bit older they can appreciate all the other things she’s done for them. How’s that for sounding like an older brother?

Brokenhearted

Thank you for this moment...