Jack Donaghy, is Never Wrong

The latter years of my life are no longer spent naming the ripples on my triceps; let the record show that the large one was, Alvin and the smaller ones were the "chipmunks." This is a reference based on the fact that, Alvin was the ringleader, Theodore clearly has the most mass. However, this isn't a blog about chipmunks, this is a blog on how I have come to realize the wisdom that an, Alec Baldwin played character has taught me. There is a certain time in the lifespan of a couple when you and your partner decide to get old and begin staying up late during the week and sleeping on the weekends. If I had been writing this blog 15 years ago, it would more than likely have had a title relating to "Mad About You," and that would've made it a gay blog (gay fag not gay homo) and my girlfriend and I, Mormon.

 You look so hot in those, let's populate!

Well we are not Mormon and I'm certainly not a closet gay with a fetish for interracial, same-sex cream-pie porn, in which, misbehaved, green-eyed Latinos are taught harsh/lubeless lessons. Nope. This blog will be about 30 Rock. (kinda)

I say kinda because this entry is not really about 30 Rock and because "kind of," is for fucking squares. Mad About You, may have been stupid but without it we wouldn't have the lifeblood of domicile relationships, Netflix. You see couples in the mid 90's stayed up and watched MAY. It was a show about a white couple, that was rare in the fact that it didn't have a brilliant ensemble case, i.e. Friends, Frasier and came about in a time where you could make it being a mediocre show about two whites, i.e. Dharma and Greg and we had yet to reap the luxuries/consequences of being a society with countless options at our fingertips. All those couples watched MAY because they didn't have a choice. When you're younger and you start dating; every experience with that person is an audition in winning his or her heart. You don't sit around watching MAY, you go to dinners, movies, scavenger hunts (Amazing Race, training), you get away on the weekends, concerts, etc. Unless you are the heir of a railroad baron or something of the sort, you can't keep this up forever. Depending on how liquid you are, you got 6-12 months. Tops.

 Really?

Fucking Really?

Once the fruits of your labor have paid off and both of you are in a place of agreement about your futures, you bunker down and you start working towards your joint aspirations. Why drop $100 on a fancy dinner when you can use that loot towards: insurance, rent, saving for a house, etc. (clearly events that call for ABC sex are an exception*.) Now that you have switched to a future mode of life that doesn't involved being frozen in carbonite;

 You may laugh Jaba, but his home is gaining equity like crazy!

you will have plenty of time to dwell on your couch: doing homework, getting fat and watching Netflix. The true Netflix gem, with the exception of, Breaking Bad is 30 Rock. In Season 5, Episode 6: Gentleman's Intermission, Jack tells, Liz Lemon that it is wired in men by evolution to cheat. Scientists have proven this to be true; it optimizes the chance for the survival of our species. However, there is another evolutionary mechanism that isn't inherent, it is earned, it is Love.


Through love we stay with our mate even if a better suitor decides to sunbathe in our cross hairs.

 Sorry Palin, you're sexy on the real, but I'm in love.

It helps us stay even when it doesn't make the most sense. It can at times outweigh the other evolutionary mechanisms, even the need to self preserve. (you know that things that keeps us from igniting a dynamite tiara and ending it all?) When you are an alpha and baptized in hubris, you lack those feelings. You have evolved beyond the feelings and thoughts of the ignorant(s) who are merely there for your beleaguering. At least that's what you think. Until one day you meet the person who will undo all your macho mechanisms and make you as weak as the simpleton you once despised.


This happened to me, two years ago, on a cold night, in a Dee's. (Freaky) I knew from the moment I first sat down and fell victim to the siren song of two large doe eyes that I might as well be in a fuckin' Bryan Adams video. You hear your entire life about the "look" that women give when they have reached honey badger status;

the look has been around since the days of Greek mythology and countless men since have fallen victim and turned to stone.

 Greek men can be so silly sometimes.

I was the unstoppable, Perseus, little did I know I was just being rendered helpless by a different kind of look.

 A doe eyed look without all the murder that a deer possesses

Coping with grief, primarily death, comes in five steps: denial, bargaining, anger, depression and then acceptance. I can't really say for certain that I would act this way in coping with a death, I have never had to. I can for certain tell you the steps of how I fell for Lauren, there are three: pessimism, denial and then surrender. I'm talking about serious surrender, like a puppy laying on his back and exposing his genitals and ever so penetrable abdomen to a rival.

So has been the story for the past two years, a vulnerable life requiring absolute trust to live in. Sharing a home, or to those astrologers out there, a shell. I am a Cancer, born on July 17th. I am a secluded homebody, a social leper. I view people in my personal space in much the same way minorities love paying their bills**, I fucking hate it. But through the same visionary direction and goal, a goal of minimizing the nights not sleeping side by side and saving countless hours of driving time (for Lauren) we moved in together. I now know that socks go in pairs and that litter boxes should be cleaned out, even more importantly so I have learned that trivial things such as a shower is better crowded and arguing over the water temperature can be both endearing and enraging. That golden showers are better when the pee is free and not from an 64 year old Cambodian man you paid three ham sandwiches to.

+

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What is truly so special about my bond with Lauren, is that it is truly unexplainable within a context that is comprehensible to our feeble minds. We are our the astrological ying and yang to one another. Caner/Leo and Leo/Cancer; in a way that is simultaneously very and not very Jerry Maguire**, we complete one another. I could literally go on forever about all the minute things that Lauren, does to make my existence a much more pleasant one; barring the fact that the gaps of time in between these actions are micro. Not that I don't appreciate her, I do. I would even trade my consistent 2x a day shitter status for her. Hell, I would shit like a girl with an eating disorder for her; pooping out half a celery stick and an apple core every three days. In turn I will write about a hand full of big things that I truly appreciate...

1) She speaks Olivia how I speak Chris [Gallegos].
I have a little angle****, just like all manipulative/destructive little monsters, Olive speaks her own hybrid language of little human and gibber-gabber. Lauren, has developed an impressive and equally endearing understanding of this language. What is so remarkable about it, is that to understand what Liv, is saying you have to understand what she is feeling. Whorin' Lorin', has dedicated the past year of her life building a bond with Olivia that rivals any bond I have ever seen. She knows the lyrics to: Yo Gabba Gabba, Backyardigans, Wonder Pets, Dora, Diego and "Let the Bodies hit the Floor" because she's hella extreme; and when you're a father who has sacrificed so much to be there for your daughter, meeting someone who is willing to sacrifice just as much for someone who she isn't even related to is the equivalent of a pizza guy teleporting to an alternate dimension in which he lives in a porno movie.

Aaaahhhhh!!!! Wrong Porno Movie!!!!

2) She's fuckin' funny but not the "funny" one.
Lauren, let's me have the funny title but all other titles: pretty, sexy, sweet, smart, humble, bootylicious, mermaid hair, singing voice, freak dancing (she can shake it like a girl in Mystikal, video), football picks, drawing, painting, closet shitting and countless more.

 So Mystikal

3) Am I truly in love?
We spoke about evolution earlier and one of the fascinating theories of it is that love was developed by humans to help ensure the progression of our species. Through love even when we find a more logical mate, we will stay through thick and thin with our irrational coitus partner. With Lauren, as mentioned earlier; we make sense on paper and even more so, from the unexplainable intangibles. Using the logic in the previous sentences true love would be defined as somehow avoiding blatant temptation when you see your theoretical soul-mate sitting on a bus stop outside of a planned parenthood and somehow not offering to share your malt liquor with her. Depending on how your outlook, I have perhaps not experienced true love from a scientific standpoint because she is perfect. Not just for me. Just Perfect. Perfect. When you view someone as perfect, is that true love, or is it nullified due to the fact that the theory of true love is never put to the test?

Perhaps we will never know. What I do know is that human beings through 6,000 years of life***** have come to learn and understand a wide spectrum on multitudes of subjects. However, what makes my relationship one that makes it the only one I ever want, is that even through trillions of minds all through out time we have still yet to understand why we work so well. There is no doubt that one day we will be able to look at our relationship and understand why it makes sense; but, until then it is undeniably mystical.

    I Think I Have to Learn to Differentiate my Mystical/Mystikals.

Oh shit; post script:

I almost forgot... For the first time in as long as I can remember, I live in a home, not a house but a fucking HOME! Because, Lauren does shit like this:

pictures go in frames and things called thumbtacks; that aren't even made of thumbs, are used to place them on the wall!!!!

I'm the only Mexi that doesn't use powdered detergent thanks to her!

Animals are suppose to eat food. Daily!

Cat's aren't suppose to live in fear!

When babies don't play under the sink, they can paint and talk!

And even if she didn't have all this, she's still fine as fuck!

 And she can't leave me because I've blown in her face!

(the grown-ups get it...)

P.P.S.

Unlike letters, or pie charts that are made of physical materials, this blog will hopefully stand the test of time, or at least until a raptor and shark terrorist team take out the internet via underwater attacks...

Underwater internet lines map, which is public effing record!

Fuck the rapture; ya'll need to fear the raptor!

I love you, Lauren.

*ABC Sex: Anniversary, birthday and Christmas. (This does not apply to the super good looking; we get the dirty dirty wherever we want, whenever we want)

** http://madamenoire.com/49350/credit-card-debt%E2%80%99s-mighty-grip-on-black-america/

*** She completes me but I'm tall and she is lacking in the bitter-beer face department.

**** http://math.about.com/od/geometry/ig/Angles-and-Triangles/Obtuse-Angle.htm
(It's a play on common misspellings.)

***** http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l1msS71xL00