Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Creep Alert!

This is an update to the earlier post below.

I checked my email this evening, and there is a "wink" for me. Now, I have to admit, I was a little excited because it has been a LONG while since anyone, male or female, has shown any interest in me or my profile online. So, I excitedly went to to check my messages.

And there was a "wink" from the creep who totally dissed me in February.

Do people not remember each other? Do these men just "wink" at every woman within a certain age group? Does this guy have two brain cells to rub together, or does he just want to punish himself?

This time, I didn't reply. I didn't want the tongue lashing I got last time to be repeated. There are other things I want guys to do with their tongues. Berating me with them is NOT one of them.

And P.S. His profile is STILL negative. Surprise, surprise.

A man has been "winking" at me from different singles websites that I have a profile on. ("Winking," for those of you who don't know, is the act of letting someone know that you are interested in them without actually having to email them anything meaningful.) This man's profile states: "Well I am starting to realize it's kinda pointless to even type anything in here as people don't really read profiles, [
sic]they just go by the picture. Honestly I am not on here to find my soulmate or a life partner. I am just on here to try and meet new people and make some new friends. I spent the last 7 years on myself in terms of trying to get a career going and trying to make something of myself."

Now, this man has "winked" at me before. I have ignored him because he is so negative, and believe me, I have no need for more negativity in my life. I have enough of my own! So I ignored him the first time around. Then he "winked" again, and this time I thought I would be nice and give him some friendly advice.

I wrote: "I've got to admit that I have seen your profile a couple of times, and I have thought about emailing you, but your profile is so darn depressing.

I just wanted to write to you and let you know that when your profile is that depressing and negative, it doesn't bode well for your chances. This is advice that I thought you needed in order to get a few more positive results from your profile. When a girl reads that you already think of her as completely self-absorbed and shallow, they don't want to meet you, even if they are self-absorbed and shallow.

And I am looking for a boyfriend, not just friends. I am really sorry, but I do hope you take my thoughts into consideration and revise your profile into something a little more upbeat about yourself and the women you are trying to meet. I think you will have better luck in the long run."

Now that I look back on it, maybe it wasn't the nicest thing I could have said.....

Anyway, he writes back to me and tells me that I have my head up my ass, I am a loser, still single, and I can basically go to hell. Well, imagine my surprise. Mr. Negative really IS negative.

Which brings me to my thought of the day. Why do people insist upon putting their negativity onto other people? I was happy to just dole out my friendly advice, albeit unsolicited. But he had to take his negativity one step further and call me a loser, a SINGLE loser nonetheless. He resorts to name calling and "I'm better that you"ing. Why can't people just take what the world gives them and try to learn from it.

OK, I know what you are all thinking. "Oh, Micaela, like you ever do that."

No, but I try!

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Realizations During Yet Another Misadventure

So, yesterday I had the pleasure of facing one of my deepest fears: seeing Jason and his new (well, not so new, really) girlfriend. Two years ago, we broke up, and a short two years it has been, but one filled with a long, long trip to recovery to the old and original Micaela.

I did really, really well in the face of fear.

I was pleasant, and introduced myself, and said, "Hi!" to Jason without barfing, vomiting, or gritting my teeth. Needless to say, I am QUITE pleased with myself.

But the sweetest and best realization came when 1) I hardly recognized him, and 2) when I felt absolutely nothing when I did recognize him.

And I felt nothing about the new girlfriend, either. Who, I am sure, is very pleasant and nice to be around, and her only major fault being the horrible bad taste that she has in men. But, I still don't want to be buddy-buddy with her.

Overall, it was a true lesson in "That which does not kill you, only makes you stronger."

I don't want to get stronger anytime soon, though.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Memoir: A Prologue

Prologue: Wow! That’s a Long Last Name!

It happens every day. Everywhere I go, I get asked the same questions. “What kind of name is that?” “How long did it take for you to learn how to spell your name?” “Is that your maiden name?”

I’m at Safeway, buying some groceries. I have one of those cards that are supposed to save me money, but are just an evil scam to make me buy more of their stuff, just because if you buy that one extra can of soup, they’ll give you a discount. After every transaction, the cashier looks at my receipt before they hand it to me and says, “Thank you, Ms. Whatever Your Name Is.” And every time, the cashier stumbles and spurts out, “Thank you… Miss … Maaa…laa …” And every time I smile and stop him or her from slaughtering my name. “Malaxechebarria,” I say as politely as I can. “Oh. What nationality is that?” With a smile, I reply, “It’s Basque.” “Oh. Ok, thanks. Do you need help out with those?”

I got an interesting question the other day: "I know I am not supposed to ask this, but what nationality is that?" I gave her a startled look, and replied, "It's Basque. Why are you not supposed to ask?" Everyone else does, I think to myself. "Oh, well, with racial profiling and such, we aren't supposed to ask people about their names or their nationality."

I didn't know whether to be offended or to laugh. Everyone since the day I was born people have commented on or made fun of my name in some way or another. And now, after a horrific event that changed our lives forever, now we have to polite and think about if we offend people by asking what their nationality is.

I never was offended by someone asking what nationality my name is. I am more offended that people take a glance at my name and make a large assumption about me as a person because of it. Sometimes those assumptions are good ones: Basques are hard working, polite, loyal to a fault. But there are other bad ones; sheep mainly come to mind.

I guess that is how it is with every nationality. Good stereotypes and bad ones, but they are still stereotypes nonetheless.

Saturday, September 1, 2007

I LOVE Being Tia Ky

I finally got to meet my teeny tiny nephew, and boy is he amazingly cute! I think it is because he has Malaxechebarria genes running through him, but I am already attached to the little guy. He spit up on me, pooped on me, and clawed me, but I didn't care.

That must be how moms feel, too.

And no, no I do not want to be a mommy. But I am the coolest Tia ever!!!

Just check out how adorable he is.

I gave him his first lesson in Star Wars and Indiana Jones. And U2. The important things in life.

Good Food in NoLa at NOLA

Every time I go to New Orleans, I want to go to an Emeril restaurant, and this time, I got my wish!

Grandma and Grandpa gave me a shiny, crisp Benjamin to spend on a nice meal for everyone. They said, dine in, take out, nice, fast-food, you decide! So, I used it to my advantage and decided that we should all go out to NOLA, Emeril's most family friendly and laid back restaurant in the French Quarter, so we could take little Aidan with us.

We made the reservations and dressed Aidan up in a cute little man outfit, and headed out. I, of course, got some pictures, but I was more distracted by the wonderful food!

Let's see, I had the duck, Steph had fillet mignon, pronounced as it should be, and Nate had the rib eye. He really, really wanted french fries and Steph and I had to literally beg him not to be annoying and obnoxious and ask for a substitute. He didn't like what the CHEF had paired with the rib eye. I told Nate that the CHEF, the one who EMERIL hired, knew more about food than Nate had ate meals in his life, but he still asked for the french fries. Much to my dismay.

But Aidan was the hit of the restaurant.