I MISS YOU, BUT I HAVEN'T MET YOU YET...

I HAVE NOT PROOF READ THIS.. IT IS AS IS!

I want to meet you already. Haven’t you had enough of that guy that keeps dissing you? Well leave him! Go out, meet people. You are valuable, you are beautiful, and you are the woman of my dreams. You don’t know me, but I am telling you that this man will do anything for you! I’m not sure why we haven’t met yet. But i’m waiting for you! I am dating to spend time while I wait for you to be done with all your trial and errors. I think it’s best that you do that because I am going to love you forever. And I know you need to be ready for that. So let those guys dance around the truth, say things that are not nice or disappoint you. Just know that I am here waiting for you when you are ready. Waiting to love you. Waiting to give you all of me. My soul begs for you and I will work to my limit for you, to give you everything you want. I’m not sure why you haven’t showed up yet. Perhaps that guy with the degree or the TV show, or the bass player of that band, or the stock broker who claims he’ll hit, holds you captive for a moment, but i’m telling you when you’re done I’m here waiting for you... with everything. With the real stuff. With everything I got. With everything I am. With Love! Oh, and by the way I do have a degree in Psychology, and have several TV shows.. but what I don’t have is you!

I keep writing, I keep directing, I keep talking to my friends about their marriage. I’ve decided that you will come when the time is right.. and it’s 11:59pm. I can feel it. When I wake up i feel a hope, a dream come true that is you! I know you already. I know what you want. What you need. How you like your breakfast. How you like your french tips done and when you want Sushi. When you feel like buying a new outfit. I will buy it for you. How you are in the morning. How you want me to just listen to you after a hard day. I’ll listen to you after your girlfriend pisses you off. After your family or client made you so made that you feel like exploding. I am here for you to soften the blow, to massage your tense muscles... to make love to you in a way you’ve never been made love to... to be everything and anything you want me to be... but you don’t have to ask. I already know. I’ll even happily dance with you to Don Omar, Pit Bull, salsa, or some 80’s retro ban. I know exactly how you want your drink. Extra Dirty Martini, vodka tonic, some sweet fruity drink, or a light beer. It’s a dance that is perfected over time between two people, but with you and I, time stands still. Our bodies will be one of the same. I'll have what you need and want, and you'll have what I want and need. You'll know me too. What I like, how to respect me and our relationship, how to make me feel like the luckiest man on earth. And if you don't know things about me, you'll take the time to find out. You're patient, bratty at times (but i love that), sincere, unassuming, respectful, confident, intelligent, and graceful. I'll feel like you are always on my side, no matter who is sitting in front of us. We are a team of one. 2 entities merged to one. We are the rhythm, the narrative and soul of our story. "US"

So what’s taking you so long? I guess it’s ok for now. I’ll keep meeting impostors who claim that they are you. And I keep discovering pretty quickly they are not.

So please hurry up my love. I’m getting tired. But I am very exited to meet you.

Your Love,

GMT

The Girl Effect

My five sisters were very lucky to have had the opportunity and love all women and people should have in this life... Some are not so lucky.

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MAN Of The House- A Candid Mini-Rant

Ok, so I’m in my thirties and I’m really the only man of the house now after my father passed away. Growing up the only boy obviously made me special, something I call the Lion King Syndrome, where when born everyone comes bearing gifts for the soon to be King who will one day rule the kingdom. Well for me the kingdom turned out to be more of a jungle of females. But how long does having a penis make you special? There comes a time in life when you have to prove you’re a grown up and a grown-ass-man, especially in house ruled by women.

How does a boy grow up to be a man in a house full of women anyway? Even one of my sister is huskier then I and has more tools in her car than I do. I think she wanted a drill for Christmas as a child… My friend had two brothers who all had interest different then mine. While we both liked playing sports like baseball, I would prefer playing cards then wrestling and listening to music then tackle football.

Now as an adult, I still go back to my mother’s house eat lunch and dinner quite often, for one to be with my mother and two, well it’s easier than cooking. Now my sister with the drill and my other sister who’s a nurse live with my mother. I think as a family we are going backwards… Are we not supposed to move away as we get older and not move back into the house where we grew up? The good thing is they are there for my mother. And I go visit everyday.

Ok, so I recently got some tools and I’ve become a handy man around the house. I also cook and clean more now, not just for my own place but for my mother and the family house. She’s finally benefiting from having so many kids. As I once heard someone say, Latinos don’t let any child go to waste, they’ll find some chore for them to do, no matter how old they are. As a Latino man, educated, and family oriented, I do try to rise to the occasion as a man within a house full of women. But unfortunately I am perpetually outnumbered.

Kotex Caper

The deal was that I could use my sister’s car to practice for my driver’s test if I took her to the store to pick up Tampons. That sounds pretty easy right...? Except Vickie didn't say I was the one who had to go in and purchase this feminine hygiene product. There I was 16 years old hesitantly walking down the Drug Emporium feminine hygiene aisle, full of products for issues I had never heard before. Yeast? That’s what you use to make bread right? “Vinegar?” Wings? "What the hell’s going on" kept echoing in my head. Overcome with my own anxiety induced cramps, I searched the shelves for the this much needed product. My job was simple, “Just get the tampons in the blue box with the bird on the front.” Do you know how many female products came in a shade of blue featuring flowers and seagulls on the front of them? After 15 minutes of torture and brain pain, I made a final selection: A Kotex box, blue, with doves flying through clouds. It was quit peaceful looking really. And hey Doves are birds right? So I grabbed them. I just wanted to get out of there. Suddenly I saw Christina Garcia, the love of my life (Although she didn’t know it) at the end of the aisle with her mother. My heart stopped and I freaked out, my hand frozen holding the tampons! I instantly shoved the box into my “Members Only” jacket. The last thing I needed was the nickname, "man-struate." At that moment, little did I know that the overzealous security guard witnessed this attempted robbery (so he thought).

“Hey you! Kid, come here!” he yelled. I panicked and darted for the exit. Surely I could explain my situation to the guard once I was safe out of the aisle away from Christina. But my running only incriminated me even more. The guard caught up to me and I was tackled to the ground. He dug his hands into my jacket and pulled out the huge embarrassment that was the box of Kotex. His bulged eyes had the “WTF?” expression. I wanted to grab his gun (if he had one) and shoot myself in the face. There I was, lying on the floor, the guard on top of me holding the Tampon box. What a nightmare. Five months later I got my driver’s license and all “charges” were dropped including that of my ego. I got to drive Christina to the movies and all was good. She didn’t even mention the incident maybe she didn’t see me or didn’t have the heart to bring it up. I did get a bit worried when she asked me to drive to Drug Emporium to pick up “something” for her mother after the movie but it turned out to be just Tab and ice. If ma did need a box of Kotex, I surely could have helped her find it. I was now an expert.

ON, "TOP" OF GIRLS

I used to call my T-Shirt a “Top.” As a boy, that was so embarrassing.

When I was in seventh grade, I was hanging out with a bunch of boys and I spilled some soda on my T-Shirt. However the words that came out of my mouth were “Oh shoot I spilled some soda on my TOP” The boys looked at me funny. One corrected me, “Your T-Shirt?” Thank god they were clueless about women in general and especially the terminology used for articles of clothing. Since then, I knew I was growing up with girls… and that girls had a whole different vocabulary than I. I was just a boy trying to figure out what the heck was going on… Lesson: Know your audience. J