Did You Lose Weight?

Yesterday was probably the first time I didn’t enjoy riding a plane. It wasn’t the fact that I dreaded going to Texas, per se, but it was the fact that I was riding with my mom. I hate to be a jerk about all of this, but I would really love for her to just grow and experience things.

First, she complains to me about the lack of sleep she got from packing the night before and the morning of. Well, maybe if shopping wasn’t done last minute and TFC wasn’t being tuned in at 3AM while packing those ridiculous Balikbayan boxes full of pan de sal, siopao, and fish, sleep deprivation wouldn’t be the issue.

Secondly, there were signs all over the airport (both in San Diego and Dallas), making it nearly impossible to get lost. Promptly after exiting the plane in Dallas, my mom needed to use the restroom. Again, there are signs everywhere. She constantly yelled across the halls asking me where I was going as I silently lead her to the restroom. Afterwards, I brought her to the baggage claim to find those damn boxes we smuggled.

Finally, the car ride from Dallas to Tyler was another two hours. I enjoy calling it a lonely cowboy town, despite the fact that there aren’t any farms or ranches. The first things that I noticed are the local shops and unique businesses that existed there. I passed by a Shell Station, which served premium for $4.16, a WhataBurger, a Wal-Mart Super Center, and a mysterious place called the Electric Cowboy (sounded like a gay club to me). I remember watching The High Cost of Low Price in Ms. Madden’s class and recalled the effects of the giant corporation’s existence in small towns.

Anyways, the car ride was just as nauseating due to my mom’s ego. It’s really embarrassing to hear my mom talk about how she wanted to fight her brother’s ex-girlfriend, her old boss, and random reckless drivers. I’m assuming she learned these manners from Maury or Jerry Springer, since that’s she’s been watching lately. Add the bad accent and poor English and it’ll probably be funny.

What’s most embarrassing is that she never has anything nice to say about me. Call me out right now by talking about my mom, but this is totally different.

“Wow! Your hair is so long. It looks nice,” says my aunt.

“Yeah, he goes to his friend’s house and gets it braided by some black girl. It’s like he’s black. He thinks he’s a gangster or something. Whatever…” asserts my mom.

Aside from that, my relatives were a bit excited to see me. They told me I got skinny and had a more defined face since the last time I saw them. From there, I knew the typical Filipino conversation initiated, which had something to do with appearance; complexion, skin tone, weight, etc. Please watch this HappySlip video for a complete example…


Because of the extreme boredom I will be experiencing here, please expect another entry soon.

TOUGH LOVE,