In Spanish there is a phrase that says “Dime con quien andas y te dire quien eres.” It means, “Tell me who you run around with and I’ll tell you who you are.” As Chavo has previously pointed out, it’s a line older relatives usually use to tell you you’re hanging with bad company.
Today, my “Dime con quien andas” moment went like this.
I was walking down the hall chatting with one of those mero mero types. I’m cracking some joke and he looks at me in all seriousness and says, “Hey, my wife and I were watching ‘American Gladiators’ the other night, and we were wondering if you know the one lady who was on there. Her name’s ‘Bloom’ I think. She plays football. Girls’ football.”
I looked at him and said, “I don’t know if I’m more disturbed by the fact that you watch the show, or by the fact that you think it stars my friends.”
Yes, the indignance was feigned. My friends and I have always had a healthy fascination with the show, but to my knowledge, none of them have ever been on the show.
Apparently, not for long.
It hasn’t happened to me much, but today it happened again. There I was, comfortably in a cab, out of the rainy SF afternoon, and on my way to the airport. We went about two blocks and the driver turned to me and said, “Did you hear that?”
“Uh, no.” I said.
“They just said the freeway’s closed down. If I’m to get you to the airport, it’ll take hours. Probably better just to drop you off now.”
“Drop me off where?” I asked.
The door opened up and I was sent on my way to the nearest BART station.
I suppose this isn’t as bad as the time I got kicked out of a cab in NYC because of the driver’s “gastrointestinal distress.”
I know. Probably not my day to buy a lottery ticket.
It looks like a horrific, infectious disease. Or less horrific, but equally infectious.
This billboard at the corner of Beverly and Atlantic Blvds in East L.A. made me laugh out loud yesterday. I think the idea behind it is that mom has a lead role in making fajitas, but the way this ad’s phrased, it looks like she is the “star” in a movie called “Pork Fajitas.”
My mother’s gonna be mad when she sees that Farmer John called her a “puerco” or a “fajita.”
I have two recurring dreams. One has been around the greater part of my life. The other has appeared more recently. Any pop psychologists out there willing to attempt an explanation?
This one has been around for over 30 years. I have it once or twice a year and it is always the same. I am sleeping at the base of a cliff, which has an overhang I can see far above me. At some point while I sleep, the overhang cracks off and I sit frozen, terrified as the mass of earth crashes down on me. I am certain I will be crushed to death, but I survive. Moments later, I see a bird’s feather floating down toward me. I marvel at its delicacy, then it crushes me.
The second dream is a returning to college dream. I’ve had it three or four times in the past few months. The premise is always that I am returning to college after a summer break. The year seems to change every time I have this dream (i.e., the first time I was going back after freshman year, the second time, after sophomore year, and more recently after junior year), but in each event, I am excited to be returning to my roommates and friends. I try to get through the courtyard’s gate. It is the gate I remember letting me into the courtyard in my dream, but my key doesn’t work, so I run around to a different gate. I am admitted through that gate and immediately the dream transports me to my dorm room. There my roommates (the women who I lived with or next door to for three years) immediately include me in the moment’s conversation. In one dream the conversation was what we’d each done for the summer. In the other it was the middle of the assignment of rooms within our suite.
One of my favorite sayings in Spanish is “El sordo no oye pero compone.” Translated it means “the deaf man can’t hear, but he can make it up.” My mother uses the phrase on me whenever I believe I heard her say something because it suits my needs.
I was reminded of the saying when I read this correction in the LA Times recently:
January 19, 2008
Campaign fundraising: A Jan. 10 article in Section A on infusions to candidates’ coffers quoted Eleni Tsakopoulos-Kounalakis, a volunteer fundraiser for Democratic Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton’s presidential campaign, as saying: “Calmer people raise more money.” The quote should have read, “Call more people; raise more money.”
Things I have not liked about this trip to D.C.
I had to wait an hour for a cab from the airport to my hotel. Airport attendants blamed the taxi shortage on traffic and the bad weather. If there are some things I know, they are that local news channels were telling folks about the snow for days and that when it snows traffic will be bad. What? Cabbies don’t watch the weather report or know that traffic will get bad in snow? Cuernos.
The Starbucks near the hotel closes at 7:30 p.m. Really? The business built on a model of “people will drink coffee at anytime and place” closes at 7:30? I don’t even like coffee, but I can’t even get a chai latte to take the place of the big brownie dessert my diet won’t let me have. Cuernos.
Dieting as a resolution. Makes me very cranky. Double cuernos.