You’re Gangsta Bitch Barbie. You’re tough and you
like it rough, and of course you like to pop a
cap in any wiggers ass.
If You Were A Barbie, Which Messed Up Version Would You Be?
brought to you by Quizilla
ok…on to stuff about me….my parents keep calling….unfortunately, in my drunken stupor on Monday – I called up one of my aunts – she’s at the top of my speed dial list on my cell phone. She has no idea what’s going on, but I turn to her, once in a while, for some spirtual guidance. I left a message – it concerned her, and she called up my parents. So, now my mom and dad are worried. I think they tried to get some info out of my bro – but he didn’t know anything either. Of course, if they were all savvy enough – I suppose they could have accesses this blog by now. Lord knows it would be easier if they could read what happened, rather than having me explain it – either on the phone or in person.
i don’t want to risk feeling rejected by my family. i don’t want them passing judgement on me….one of those, “she had it coming” attitudes. if anything, that would screw up our relationship royally….
so, i am the queen. as far as i’m concerned, my parents and bro will not hear anything from me. as far as they know – i’m just on my way to college….
but they suspect. they keep calling…
my aunt – i love her dearly. she’s really a family friend, but she’s known me since diapers – she might as well be blood. her daughter is my dad’s god-daughter. she liked to call me her “god-cousin”. there was a time she she use to look up to me, as a badd-ass skater breaking hearts and all the rules. hell – did that sound like a Christopher Pike novel? i hope not. my aunt, she’s really tuned into her spirituality and she does her best to help us tune in as well. occasionally she would have some feng shui advice for my family’s house, at least when we had a house. i remember her once leaning over her daughter, who was buckled into our mini van for a trip to an amusement park….maybe disneyland…..they touched each others foreheads and my aunt mumurred, “white light your jorney, protect all in this van.” when we went on a vacation, sometimes we’d leav Bernie at her house. She also had a dog, a black poodle named Bonnie. Bernie liked her, a lot – and it didn’t matter if he was neurtered or not. On a side note, I don’t care what the vets say – neutering does jack shit on calming a dog down. My dog was just as vivacious, and as disturbing a thought it is to me – just as horny, as any other dogs with their units in tack.
so my aunt, she also got me a crystal ball. she had this feeling about me and knew i was interested in exploring any psychic connections. she heard i was telling fortunes with playing cards for my skating friends. apparently, each reading touched an uneasy nerve with the girls. they believed in my readings. i used a mixture of gypsy interpetations and wiccan symbols when i dealt out the cards for my friends. she was concerned because i wasn’t taking the proper protections – leaving myself open for whatever is out there. she didn’t say evil – but i got the gist of it. i stopped telling fortunes. i tried once to see what i could see in my crystal ball. i saw a lot of pain and myself, miserable. i stopped using the crystal ball.
my lola, my grandmother, passed away during my junior year in college. one week before, i dreamnt that we were at a birthday party for her. my family gathered in my ninang’s house – we had a cake. we also knew, it would be her last birthday. i told my dad about the dream and insisted that my brother and i take the weekend to visit. yeah – money was tight back then, especially when my parents had to put both kids into college. but my dad willing and i think he was scared of my words. my brother and i flew into Ontario International Airport on the day of my lola’s birthday. My dad met us at the gate. With tears in his eyes, he said she was gone. I felt horrible. Despite everything, he missed his chance to be with her in order to pick his kids up at the airport. I couldn’t help feeling responsible for her passing away. Logic says that she’s old and it was going to happen anyways, without or without the dream. But it doesn’t take away the hurt, knowing that.
later that evening, back at my family’s house – we had dinner. i went outside to get the mail and found a pigeon, struggling on our lawn. it’s wing was hurt and i couldn’t stand to leave it there, in pain. i convinced my dad to take it. we put the bird in a shoebox and tried to get to eat. i tried calling the human society, but they were closed for the evening. the bird spent the night, in his new shoe box – with the top off, inside the garage. my mom objected to keeping it in the kitchen. besides – bernie could have been a little too excited by it. the bird didn’t make it to the next morning. so my dad had two burials to attend to, that week.
after talking to my dad about my dream, my aunt exclaimed that i must be psychic. my dad told me about her analysis. i resented it and hated it. i prayed that i would never have this kind of dream again. i didn’t want to feel responsible for such things, like people dying. i knew i wasn’t – but i kept feeling that way.
thankfully, i haven’t dreamed up any more deaths. but i do dream of kissing. pretty much, while i’m dating a guy, would become my boyfriend – i first dream about them kissing. this has been true, ever since high school. i don’t know how much of it is pure wanting and how much of it is prophetic. in any event, it’s kinda nice to know what to expect, when kissing a guy.