Interview with Cecelia Gimenez

Good Morning People of the World! Ive been extremely absent for many months. Who knew that growing a fetus would make you tired and focus on other things. My good writer friend recently wrote about making yourself write through crappy times or busy times or just don't give a shit times, and I decided she has a point, I should probably write something soon before I forgot how to form basic sentences and start using LOL and BRB in everyday conversation, at which point I would need to just take myself out. Since I kind of enjoy living, I bit the bullet and here we are. We've come full circle. I feel majestic for some reason. Like Simba when Rafiki lifted him over that gorge in whatever form of baptism dirty heathen animals practice.

Ok so I recently read about some shit going down in Spain. Apparently some old broad there took it upon herself to restore some priceless religious artifact that was hanging up in some church slowly decaying and people are going completely insane over her lack of artist ability and destruction of a piece of religious history. She has basically been torn a new asshole for her layman's 'restoration' of this thing, and the country is up in arms over her defacement of the beautiful face of Jesus Christo.  This is what the fresco looked like before CeCe got her shriveled tiny mits on it:

As luck would have it, I was able to lock down an interview with this infamous woman before she is thrown from the cliffs of Castellfollit de la Roca by an angry mob of Catholics. So Id like to give a big Midwest Welcome to the feisty Cecelia Gimenez

M-"Good Morning Cecelia, first of all thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to Skype with me this glorious day"

C-"Eh yes, that's fine, very good. Please be excused from my English. In Espana, the country, she dubs everything. We do not learn the English. I watch the 30 Rock in Spanish, its good, I like woman that eats food products all day"

M-"Oh right, Tina Fey, yeah shes great. So Cecelia, lets get right into it. It seems like you are in a bit of trouble right now with a good portion of your town."

C-"Eh yes. They all very much have the anger at me now. I do not know why."

M-"I think it may have something to do with that Jesus face you took some puff paint to a few days ago"

C-"I don't know what you are speaking about"

M-"Cecelia....... Cecelia, your PR rep agreed this would be a candid, honest interview, a chance for you to clear the air over here in America"

C-"Ok ok ok, keep your hat on your face, I talk I talk. So it happens in this direction. I help out at the church. The priest at the church say to me "CeCe, go fix that wall painting of Jesus Christo" and I say "ok Priest, whatever you say boss" so I take my nieta's Crayola colorwater painting tool, and I do the fixes. No biggie. I just fix the face of Jesus, because I am good Catholic and I do what the Priest he tells me. Now everybody mad mad mad"

M-"So the Priest asked you to do it.Why do you think the priest chose you to perform this special task? Do you have a background in fresco restoration or art history?"

C-"He pick me because he too lazy to do the thing on his own time. Also, I sell the painted leaves with angel faces, animals, whatever you ask for on them on Etsy. I'm thinking that maybe having something to do with this? I don't know, I'm not that Priest, I cant say"

M-"Alright, that makes sense, a Priest, someone you feel has religious superiority over you, tells you to restore a wall painting, and you being the good Catholic you are, do what he says, and make the fixes. Makes sense."

C-"Eh yes that's what happen. I do what he says. I don't need to go to hell for telling Priest 'No, do painting on your own time Priest!' I'm not the uncle of a monkey, I don't sassback to Priest"

M-"Thats understandable. They do carry those stick things sometimes. I imagine getting hit over the head with one would result in a sizeable knot. So how long did it take you to complete this restoration and how long until someone noticed it and the shit hit the fan?"

C-"Ehhhh it take about like 15-20 minutos. I said in other sentence that I paint leaves and sell them on internet. I have pretty good speed at painting now, so it no take that long. I finish painting on Jesus on Tuesday. I start getting phone calling on Friday. It take 3 whole days for people at my church to notice the nice work I do for them. They lack of the respect. Shame on they heads I wish it"

M-"Wow, only 15 minutes? Thats pretty impressive Cecelia. I cant even make myself finish coloring in one page in a coloring book, let alone complete an entire fresco restoration in a quarter of an hour. You got mad skills woman."

C-"Eh yes. I have the skills that are mad. I am good at painting the things. I make many Euros on internet. I no understand why people are having this anger towards myself. I do good work for Priest, for God, for church, for Jesus."

M-"I agree, you were just doing what you thought was right. Sometimes that backfires though unfortunately. So after having time to think this over, are you still convinced that your restoration is a good one? I actually have a copy of the faceJesus right here. I'm going to hold it up to the screen CeCe and then you tell me your thoughts on your work now after the fact, ok?"

C-"Eh yes, ok good, show me the photo picture copy"

M-"Can you see it ok?"

C-"Eh yes. I see it. I see the glowing beauty of the Lord of the Jews and Catholics, Jesus Christos."

M-"Alright, so you're saying that even now, you maintain this is a beautiful painting?"

C-"Eh yes, of course it is beauty. That is the face of a man that saves all of the worlds from the devil and the Mitt Romney"

M-"Oh haha I wasnt aware you were in tuned to the political situation going on over here, but yes, the devil and Romney have some similar qualities, I can understand that comparison. Well Cecelia, you seem like a very strong women, secure in her convictions. You say the Priest told you to do it, and you are somehow convinced that this baby lemur with a neckbeard that you painted is beautiful, so really, who am I to tell you its not"

C-"Eh yes, thank you for understanding the troubles I go through in this time. I do the work that I feel was right, and it makes me hurt in the feelings that the people of the church do not enjoy the glory I paint to the Lord."

M-"Well Cecelia, after an interview like that, I think you should know, America is on your side. Dont let the haters bring you down. You were following orders, to the best of your ability, and most importantly, its a fucking painting on a wall. Nothing to have an aneurysm over considering the current state of the World. So hang in there little mama, things will be better soon."

C-"Ehhh my thanks to the people in the Americas for not getting the anger at me like the people of Espana. I send you some leaves with baby lambs on them in a way to show you my happiness at you."

M-"Sounds great CeCe. Keep on trucking, and have a good weekend"

Summer Fashion Tips

Well Hey there everybody! I hope this morning finds you well. The first official day of summer was yesterday, and that means the time has arrived for us to have the talk. And frankly, it probably doesn't even apply to 95% of the 4 of you that read this because I'm getting old as fuck, and I'm assuming most of you are also old as fuck, and the people that tend to need this talk are all young looking and junk. But I digress. We need to discuss some basic rules I came up with as a middle schooler about how to dress comfortably during  the warmer months without looking like a complete skank.

*Side Note* Its likely I have referenced this topic before in previous posts, but because Blogger's system for categorizing previous posts was developed by a partially stepped on potato bug, I cant find whatever the hell post I was looking for to verify, so if this is a repeat, pretend like Im a stand up comic and you like me so much you followed me to the next city over to see the same act you saw last month **Side Note to the Side Note** Holy shit do not go look up potato bug in google images. You will throw up. I was talking about the rolly polly looking things that are all flat and grey and segmented and that come out of cracks in the sidewalk or from under rocks.

So we all understand that early summer in the Midwest equals lots of blindingly pale skin showing through varying degrees of cotton and spandex and whatever they make swimsuit tops out of. And if you are anything like most of the perverts I know, then this fact may get you all wound up and eager to begin creeping around University bookstores and local popular lake hang out spots with a pair of dark sunglasses and a creatively hidden way to take pictures on your phone without looking like you are taking a picture with your phone.

 And you may be thinking "shut the F up Maria, we like our women and men loose and crazy looking, don't tell them anything that will make them second guess giving us free peep shows 3 months out of the year." I can only say to you, I'm sorry. Someone needs to pass on the torch of knowledge. I cant let this revelation die with me. It must be shared. 

The reason I give a crap if young, or middle aged or old people walk around with their butt cheeks hanging out of the bottom of their shorts or their nipples cresting over the tops of their size 2 tanks is simple. I feel like there is a fine line between sexy and tramptastic, and that more people need to understand that it's not that difficult to still look hot without showing everyone the side of your vulva whenever you bend down to tie your shoe. Or more importantly, that if you are going to let your lady bits fly in the wind in public, then for the love of Freddy Mercury, please don't show me your tits at the same time. And herein, lies my point, the secret to my success:

THE ONE AND ONLY RULE FOR NOT LOOKING LIKE A TRAMP DURING THE SUMMER, REGARDLESS OF AGE:

~Only feature one set of assets per outfit~

Thats it. Its that simple. Think of your body as divided into 3 sections, like so:

These 3 sections are your Fun Zones. These are the areas you can decide to either accentuate, ignore, or hide. I would advise you to take a hard and realistic look at yourself and understand what in fact is your best Fun Zone, and once that is established, remember that this area is the one where skin being shown will be the least offensive or most boner inducing to the general population. Once you've determined your feature Fun Zone, you can begin planning outfits accordingly.  Lets look at some examples of what not to do, and perhaps the mantra above will become clearer to you. 

Here we have Wendy, who seems to have just woken up and is now on the hunt for some Malox and Funyuns to help her start her 3pm off right. I notice first off, that Wendy has some very nice and shapely legs.  She can get away with wearing those daisy dukes, even if her butt cheek is peeking. So for Wendy, we would say her best Fun Zone, is the Lower. Unfortunately, Wendy decided to instead accentuate her Mid and Top Fun Zone by wearing the least supportive swimsuit top she could find behind the dryer and by then layering it with some type of device used to strain shrimp out of creeks. This is not doing Wendy any favors. Lets move on.

Here we have Fiona, who after consuming 12 Zima with Limes decided to take a quick nap in the bottom of an elevator shaft. Upon first glance, I would say that Fiona has some lovely tatas, and that her best Fun Zone is the Top. They seem to be of a nice shape and still full and perky. Fiona made a wise decision when she decided to feature her Top Fun Zone by wearing a very low cut, brightly colored tank. Where she went wrong is when she made the choice to pair that top with her 6 month old infant sister's jean dress, and a 3rd graders Oxford that she found on the bus after that group of private school kids got off at the Museum.

And finally, we have Zeke and Marlon (left to right) I'd like to start out by saying that Marlon looks wonderful and I wouldn't change a thing. He knows that his best feature are his long legs, which he accentuates by wearing a lovely, dark colored skinny jean. Kudos Marlon, you know your shit. Zeke on the other hand, needs a little help. We notice that Zeke has a very nice Mid Fun Zone, which is generally the hardest one to pull off. It is slim, muscular, and has minimal hair growth; a perfect specimen for Mid Fun Zone showcasing. But Zeke went one step too far when he put on that child sized tiger striped hoodie. There's just too much Zeke skin showing, and I now have no desire to guess at whats under those suede pantaloons since I feel like Ive gotten the milk for free. A better choice could have been a simple cut off white tee, or a broken in brown leather vest, worn open without an undershirt.


And so now you know. Showcasing too many Fun Zones at once, or the wrong ones can be disastrous. The results can range from sexual crimes to loss of friendships to natural disasters. If you take one thing away from the post, let it be this: You don't have to show all the goodies all the time. Instead of wearing a dress 5 sizes too small that makes your boobs touch your chin and your bottom wink at passersby, try discussing the current political situation over in Egypt, or how black holes are formed while wearing a tube top and full coverage jeans. You may find that mental stimulation is a better lure for attracting a mate that isn't a douchebag than wearing a full Juicy Couture tracksuit any day.

Thanks for stopping by. Have a lovely day

~Maria

Up the Duff

Hey there lovers & friends! For the .5 of you that don't know me in real life, I recently announced that I am with child. Like the virgin mary. Except I didn't get impregnated by an angel on behalf of a deity. I'm pretty sure.

Anyway, a few of the 5 of you who read this asked me to write something about pregnancy. And so I figured, hey why not, lets go for it. If you hate children, and never plan on having any, and hate people who talk about kids, great, me too! This shouldn't be too terrible to read. Also, I promise that I wont get into too gross of details since I'm not getting paid to tell you this shit, and I'm not divulging the inner workings of my colon if I'm not getting any compensation for it.

So. A list of the things Ive learned so far being pregnant. Begin.


1) Morning Sickness feels like having a 4 week hangover

I was under the impression that this so called Morning Sickness meant that you wake up, puke, and go merrily about your day. This is inaccurate and movies and tv, per usual, lie to you regarding this symptom. For me, Morning Sickness felt like the time I was at Brothers and got real cocky and did about 8 shots of Ciclon and cranberry since they were like a dollar, and then had to be physically carried out of the bar by two very nice bouncers in red shirts as I was apparently passing out in the bathroom. *Side Note* I blame this on my youthful need to impress my boyfriend's friends, who were known for buying 60 of these shots at once and making everyone do them continuously until they were gone. My experience with Morning Sickness was 4 weeks of how I felt the morning after the Ciclon Disaster of 06.

2) The largest cup size Maternity Stores go up to is E. 


Before I began growing a fetus baby in my abdominal cavity, I was already cursed with giant knockers. You read that post, you know my struggles. After being knocked up, these warlocks decided it would be funny to grow even bigger, since apparently I don't look like enough of a freak show already. Fairly quickly into this pregnancy, I found myself becoming angrier and angrier while at work, and aside from the fact that work sucks because its work, I couldn't figure out why. One day I had an epiphany and realized it was because I was cramming something large into something small, much like trying to fit a water balloon into a baby stocking, and this was making me irritable. Like this poor, mentally deficient cat, with its head stuck in a soup can, I knew something had to be done immediately.

 So I went bra shopping, and this is what I found: normal clothing stores don't cater to women with giant boobs. They just don't. Target--DDs. Old Navy-Ds. Alright, maybe I need to try actual maternity stores. Pea in the Pod--Ds. I called Hot Mama--Cs. What in the fucking hell? My assumption for Cs being the largest cup they carry centers around the fact that most of the women who have enough money to shop there all fit into size zero pants before pregnancy, so their tiny bodies only expand to C-grade during full blown knocked-up-ness. To make this long story not that much shorter, I finally found Es at Motherhood Maternity, and I no longer want to murder people within a 3 foot radius.


3) Maternity Bras make you feel like an 89 year old 

There isn't much explaining needed on this one. I'm a bra snob in that I like my bras to be cute, ridiculously overpriced and sewn by tiny children in Indonesia chained to a floor. Maternity bras are not about the sexiness. They are about holding in a wall of cleve so that you don't accidentally give someone a black eye while reaching for a 6 pack of Shasta while at the grocery store. And as much as I may feel less desirable when wearing one of these, I am grateful for their support and military grade fabric.


4) 2 out of 5 co worker's reactions to finding out I'm pregnant have been "I thought you were just getting a fat stomach"


Now this may be the fact that I work in the public sector, and thus the type of people I work with care less than your average human being about not being assholes. I'm not sure if this is normal or not where you work. But after announcing that I am pregnant, I have had at least 6 people tell me they thought I was just letting myself go. I have also been told that a few knew I was pregnant because my face has gotten fatter, not chubby, not bigger, fatter. Lovely! I'm in no way disillusioned to the fact that I'm going to gain weight during pregnancy. But, really, when is it ever a good time to tell someone that they look bigger? Unless they were a Russian orphan in one of those terrible orphanages where the kids cant walk at like age 7 because no one ever interacted with them and they all weigh like 28 lbs. I think that's the only time it is socially acceptable to blatantly comment on someone's weight that you only have a professional relationship with.

5) Losing the ability to enjoy food put me into a mini depression


For the weeks of hungoverness, I was barely able to eat, and the idea of most if not all of my favorite foods made me want to puke all over myself. I wasn't prepared for this. No one ever told me that I may not want to eat certain foods for an extended period of time. And the shock of it turned to depression after the first week passed and the feelings hadn't gone away. I was honest to god depressed over this. If this is not a true testament to my Forever Fatkid status, I don't know what else is. Luckily, I'm rounding the bend, and am finally getting to a point where I can eat most of the things I used to enjoy.

5a) Puking up Hambuger is like puking up some of your soul


Except for burgers. Don't know if I can ever enjoy a delicious grease ball again. Worst vomit experience of my life.

6) I realized that I don't want my kid to be the only thing that bring me joy in life


My husband and I have a pretty great thing going currently. We do pretty much whatever we want in our free time, and live in a nice area with plenty of woods and fields to explore. We also watch a lot of documentaries and are constantly learning new things about the world. Do I understand that having a baby changes things? Absolutely. Do I think it means an end to enjoying the things you used to enjoy as just a couple? Only if you let it. I look at it this way: our dog literally goes everywhere with us, mainly because we don't go many places that would require him to not be there too. So why would that be any different with a baby? If anything, a baby is just another addition to the troop. We may need to carry a few more things to accommodate the newest member, but an addition of a kid to your family unit doesn't have to be like surviving a hurricane.


7) Napping is a lost art


The United States is built on the principal that you work as hard as you can for as long as you can, and that produces the best outcome. This is bullshit. Naps are glorious and should be nationally sanctioned into the workday for everyone. Pregnancy reminded me of this fact, as in my 1st trimester, I could have easily slept for 12-14 hours a day no problem. Ive always enjoyed sleeping, but there is something quite refreshing about napping away an hour in the afternoon, and waking up knowing you can still get some shit done that day.  If I wasn't so concerned about the possibility of contracting bedbugs from some of the furniture in this building, you can bet your ass I would be taking naps at work as well as on the weekends. *Side Note* For some reason, any time I wake up from a nap, I must eat within 5 minutes or I become extremely grumpy, and revert to a 3 year old. I do not know why. So remember Naps + Snack Time = a more productive day.

8) I don't know anything about Baby Stuff


Its not that I'm not the mothering type. In fact, if I see a baby squirrel that fell out of a nest, I cant even let nature take its course, and let the ants eat him. I once kept a baby squirrel in a shoebox in college for that very reason, and after work was planning on taking him to the wildlife rescue, but some asshole stole him from my yard, I'm assuming thinking I left a box of shoes sitting on my steps. What I'm talking about is I literally know nothing about what I need to buy, when my baby should be walking, whats ok to feed them when. I cant even tell how old babies are in real life, and when someone tells me their kid is 37 months, my only reaction is to get angry that they are making me try and remember how to do long division in my head. Does this general lack of knowledge scare me? Not really. Because really we humans are hearty creatures, and if a baby can be born addicted to crack, and still survive long enough to produce its own crack baby, I'm pretty sure my baby will be ok. *Side Note* Its not the crack babies fault.

So there you have it. Pregnancy wisdom. Not much different than regular wisdom. Except there is a tiny parasite feeding off of your internal organs while you are learning it. Fun!


Have a nice weekend. Go outside.


~Maria