Tag Archives: Baltimore

Protected: Small town dating

23 Feb

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:


What Would McNulty Do?

31 May

I’ll admit, I’m often late to the game.  In the case of “The Wire” – the greatest television show of all time – I was about 7 years late.  Had I watched it while it was actually filming/airing then perhaps I’d be writing this post while Stringer-Bell (Idris Elba) was laying naked beside me.  Because obviously I would have been stalking him all over the city and somehow blackmailed him into dating me.  Which totally would have been possible because I was far younger then than I am now.

My friends who have never visited Baltimore and who have watched the show imagine that everything that happened on the show is pretty much reality.  And it would be a lie if I told you I didn’t feed into their vision of what the city actually looks like.  When I was living in Australia last year, I had a number of friends asked me what life was like in the ghetto and if I lived anywhere near Marlo’s hangout or the Pit.

Yesterday, Martin O’Malley, who was the inspiration for Carcetti announced a bid for the White House.  I wonder what David Simon would have done with that nugget if the show was still airing.  I wonder how he would have depicted the Baltimore riots that broke out a weeks ago.  And I wonder if he would have taken my phone call when I called to tell him about the heroin addict that lives next door to my mom.

She moved in a few months ago, and has been nothing but trouble for since then.  When my mom mentioned to her that she should clean up after her dog, she yelled a string of obscenities to her – not caring that my niece was standing next to my mother.  When a friend of hers parked in a spot that wasn’t hers, my other neighbor told him he couldn’t park there.  The guy got out of the car, flipped her the finger, and left his car there for hours.  The yards are littered with beer cans, the lawn hasn’t been mowed in forever, and the garbage just accumulates outside the house.

About a week ago a dude in a white Mercedes pulled up and approached my mom and one of the nice neighbors.  According to my mom he was high as a kite.  He proceeded to apologize for the behavior of the young man who had illegally parked, and then told them how the guy had been a drug runner for him, and that he was the distributor.  He then spilled the beans about how the neighbor was a heroine addict and that he had been selling to her for years.

Insert open mouths and blank stares here.

Of course my mom and the cool neighbors have complained to the home owners association and she’s being evicted.  She was supposed to vacate the property last week.  She’s not moving.  I’m waiting for McNulty to show up and drag her out.  Sometimes I wonder if the white Mercedes is going to be parked there when I visit my mom and I’m so tempted to ask one zillion million questions.

My first question, of course, would be, “who do you think the bigger bad ass was: Marlo or Omar?”  Inquiring minds want to know.

Baltimore? More like Bat-imore…

9 Aug

Picture it…it’s 3:00 AM and you’re dead asleep in your bed when you hear some scratching sounds at your window.  You turn in your bed, open your eyes, and see two black things on the window screen.  “Birds?  At this hour?” you think to yourself.  You sit up in bed, turn on the light, and that’s when those two black things take flight – straight at you.  You scream like a baby, run down the stairs, and hide in the corner of your house while you try to figure out who the hell you’re going to call in the middle of the night to get the bats out of your house.

That’s what happened to my mom the other night.  Poor Mamacita has been sharing her lovely country home with a colony of brown bats.  Not a handful of them.  A colony.  That’s a whole COLONY of bats.  Yeah, so that’s not really awesome – and in related news I won’t be heading down to Baltimore anytime soon.  Since that first night when the two bats decided to dive bomb her in the middle of the night, they’ve removed four bats from her house.

Four different companies have come out to do assessments and give estimates.

  • The first dudes jacked up the job in a major way and then over charged her.  Mainly because they’re giant assholes.  On the bright side, she can totally sue them for everything they’re worth because they killed TWO bats in front of her – which is a felony.
  • The second company was kind enough to tell her that the first company did a shitty job, and then gave her a ridiculous amount as an estimate.
  • Company number three sent out a dude who may have sniffed too much glue as a child.  His response was, “I don’t see any bats.  So maybe they’re gone.  Maybe let’s wait to see if you see anymore, and if you do, then we know you have some bats.”  Really?
  • The final company seems to be the most reasonable.  They put all their little bat traps up today and expect the COLONY of bats to be gone within the next few days.

Who knew that getting rid of bats in your home would be so complicated?  First of all, they’re protected – you can’t kill them.  And even if you could, why would you want to?  Their poor rotting bodies would be in your walls and they’d stink up your whole house.  Second, they can crawl into a space as long as there’s a hole the size of a pen.  Do you know how many holes you have in your house that are that size?  A lot.  Good luck finding them all.

My poor mother has taken refuge at my sister’s house until the bat situation is taken care of.  A house full of bats, or a house with Damien and Lucy(fer).  Wow, that’s like Sophie’s choice right there.

Some People Need a Mute Button

29 Jul

My mother has a landscaper who does not know how to shut her mouth.  I know what you’re thinking,

Catherinette, why does your mother have a landscaper if she’s Mexican?  Don’t Mexicans naturally gravitate towards yard work, cleaning bathrooms, and making tacos?

You racist bastard.  I’ll have you know there are two different kinds of Mexicans: then kinds who do all that shit, and then the kinds who pay their own people to do that shit.  My family falls into the second category.  What’s more, we often hire people outside of our own race to do those menial chores for us.  It says to the world,

Yeah, I’m Mexican, but I can afford to hire white people when white people can only afford to hire Mexicans.  So take that.

But anyway, so this woman who works for my mom HATES her life so much that she’d rather be moving plants, digging holes, and pulling weeds than go home to her husband.  There are nights where she’s at my mom’s past 1:00 in the morning – and no, they’re not having a lesbian affair.  Pulling weeds is like this woman’s Vicodin, it numbs the pain of her marriage and mundane life.  God only knows why.  Vicodin is much better.  Though it’s bad for you and you shouldn’t do it and drugs are bad.  RIP Cory Monteith.

Over the weekend I went home to take Lucy(fer) and Damien to a concert.  I’m the coolest aunt ever in the world, and they’re also a solid cover because it would be creepy if I went to see these guys by myself.  If loving a teeny bopper Nickelodeon boy band is wrong, then I can never in this world be right.  It’s a problem – I’m trying to seek help.  It’s too embarrassing to admit how much money I spent on tickets so the kids (and I) could meet the band, have our pictures taken, grope two of the singers (who are all over the age of consent AND can buy alcohol in all 50 states), and sing along to every song at the concert.  10 hours later, I finally dropped off two sleepy kids and headed to my mom’s so I could wash the disgusting sweat off my dirty Mexican body.  The second I pulled into the driveway and saw the gardener’s car I had one thought, “Fuck.”

I kid you not that it too me 45 minutes to get from my car to the house.  Why?  Because she wanted to show me every single plant she had moved, tell me about how she had Lyme’s disease, and how her husband was recovering from open heart surgery.  See how I was able to sum that up in 1 sentence?  It took her 45 minutes.  And it’s not like I was throwing questions at her, all I said was, “mmm hmm,” “oh,” and, “ok.”

Meanwhile, I know my mom saw me pull in to the driveway.  Think she’d come out and save me?  Or maybe call my phone so I could pretend to have a very important phone call that I had to take?  No.  No, she did not do any of those things.  Instead she hid in the house because she was afraid she’d get sucked into the conversation and not be able to find her way out.  When I asked her later why she didn’t come out she said, “Figured it was better for one of us to get sucked in than both of us.  Plus the book I was reading was really good.”


It was past midnight when I finally made it in the door.

At 3:30 I got up to pee and peeked out the bathroom window.  She was still out there digging a hole for some plant I can’t pronounce.

Also, but mostly unrelated, I totally wrote this post under the influence of Vicodin.  I had the worst cramps in the world.  For like four hours I was in terrible pain and kept thinking, “Man, this is so weird.  I feel l have cramps, but I don’t have my period.”  Yeah, I had my period.  SURPRISE!  Fuck you, Aunt Flow.  You are not the coolest aunt ever in the world like I am.

I’m going to take a nap.

Fancy Meeting You Here

3 Jun

Those of you that have checked the peen counter in the last several months know that I’m experiencing a very LONG and tragic dry spell.  One that would reduce just about anyone to tears.  Frankly, it’s a sad sad state of affairs and Vageena Davis is so very lonely.  So very sad and so very, very lonely.

This wretched dry spell reminds me of another one that I had ages and ages ago when I was just a young thing.  One that happened to be broken by a young man that I met on December 31st of 1996.  It’s incredible how a one night stand (or ONS as some of us call them) can change your life.  And how sometimes they come back to haunt you.

This just happened to be one of those cases…

Continue reading

Protected: Seriously, I Need Help

25 Sep

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below: