When the recession started, you wouldn't believe how many people started sending me messages asking me for money. They were people that saw me at shows and wanted me to "help them out". It's weird how people have this misconception of how much money I make, or that I'm famous because I was on TV, or whatever. They think that since Chris Rock and Jerry Seinfeld are rich, than all stand-up comedians must have a lot of money as well. To these people I say: HA HA HA HA HA HA. There's also a lot of people that think comedians only get paid for their time on stage, but there's a lot more that goes into it. I'm in San Antonio this week. Started the week on Wednesday. So far, I 've done two shows. Each night for fourteen people. That's right fourteen. This is a blog so it's not like you heard me wrong. I didn't say forty people, I said fourteen. I really don't mind the number as I've done stand-up for less people than that, but it's what I had to go through to get here. It was really a Planes, Trains and Automobiles kind of day. I was in Dallas, planning on renting a car to drive down to San Antonio because the price to fly down was too expensive. I had made a reservation for a car. My brother-in-law was going to take me to the rental place. He unfortunately ran late because he was stuck at his job. Let me mention this important fact: car rental places HATE when you're late. My appointment to get the car was anywhere between 10-11 am. At about 12:30, he finally shows up and we go to the car rental place. When we get there, they tell me that they thought I wasn't showing up for the reservation, so they cancelled it and sent the car to get an oil change. It wouldn't be ready for over an hour. At this point, I'm cutting it close if I want to drive to San Antonio because it's almost a five hour drive from Dallas. I start checking around and no other car rental places have cars available because it's that weird time of the day where they're waiting for cars to be returned to them, etc etc. So now, I really have no options. I have an 8:30 show to get to and no way to get there. I go online and look up airfare. I found a Southwest flight to take, that was the cheapest to take but even then it wasn't cheap because it was last minute. I had to book the flight to make the show because I don't like canceling. I booked one that left Dallas at 5:30 to make it San Antonio at 6:30 PM which gave me enough time to get my checked bags (because now that I'm flying I had to check in bags), get a cab (because I was afraid the shuttles would be too slow) and go to the club to pick up the key to the condo I'm staying in. When I got to the airport, I got to the gate, ONLY to see that it was delayed. It's supposed to take off at 5:30, now they think it'll leave at 6:05. NEAT. Oh, here's an important piece of information I forgot. I brought along with me a small plastic tub of food with me because I didn't know where I was staying and frankly, I like traveling with food to eat because one time I got stuck working at a club that put me up in a hotel that was next to NOTHING. Since then, I always pack food that I can make in a hotel room...JUST IN CASE. So at this point, I'm waiting at the gate and I'm sitting right next to these two country dudes that are having a serious (and I mean SERIOUS) discussion about skeet shooting. "Them clay pigeons are crazy...you get a lot of bang for your buck." Thanks, I'll keep an eye out for them. They were annoying me so much that I decided to move to another spot. When I got up, I grabbed the handle of my little food tub and boom-ALL MY FOUND SPILLED OUT OF THE TUB. Now, I'm embarrassed because people have already been staring at me and my clear plastic tub full of food. I felt like they were looking at me and saying, "Does that woman need food ALL THE TIME?" I pick up my food and walk away from the gate as far as I can. Finally, the plane boards. I wish I could find words to describe how much I detest Southwest Airlines. Their motto should be: At least it isn't Greyhound. The people working at this airline are too chipper for me. They remind me of a bad improv group. They're always cracking jokes. I don't like that. I mean, you're working for an airline. I want to know that if the plane's going down, you're not going to crack jokes: We're going down! That's not what we mean, dirty birds! (Laughter from the crew) The flight itself was ok. The crew was not, but I dealt with it. When I arrived, I got my bags, took the cab down to the club because as I stated before, I had to pick up the key to the condo that I was staying at. I was hoping to have time to drop off my bags at the condo before the show, but it really didn't seem like I'd be able to. When I got to the club, the manager came to see me and didn't recognize who I was. When I told him I was Cristela, the girl that's featuring this week, he looks at me and says, "Really? You don't look anything like your pictures." Thanks, this is just the push my ego needed for that legitimate attempt at killing myself. Awesome. So at this point, I get the key and now there's no time to go and drop off my bags, I have to keep them here at the club during the show. I decide to go into the green room and put on some make-up at least, even though that's the last thing I want to do after my awful day. I have to get ready though, the show starts in half hour. Half hour later, when I open the door to see the club, I see the room is empty, at least I think it is. Hold on. I see a head here and there. Oh my God. Is this the show? I start counting, there's about 14 people in the room. The first thing I thought was, "Did I really go through all of this to do a show for 14 people?" And the anwer is, yes. I did. I did it, damn it. I'm here and these 14 people want comedy and I'm going to give it to them. And I did. A half hour of jokes. After my set, I go to the bar to get some water. It's there that I meet one of the servers. This woman comes up to me and says, "I've been here for 15 years and I just wanted to tell you, I think you're really funny. You're so relatable and very funny." It was at that moment that I remembered why I went through everything I went through. It's for that moment. She had no clue what kind of day I had...all she wanted to tell me was that she thought I was funny. It was great. I ended up going to the condo that the comedy club has. I was carrying all these bags with me when wouldn't you know it, that f*&king plastic tube opens again and spills my food out on the Riverwalk. AWESOME! I try to keep my cool. I finally got to the place and plopped down only to notice that there is no internet and the TV doesn't work. I got my make-up remover stuff out and soap to wash my face. Took out the toothbrush and brushed my teeth. It was then that I looked at the wall and saw a little cockroach walking on the wall. I started feeling crappy and then figured I'd buckle through it. I looked at the roach and thought, "One day, I'll look back at this day and laugh. Not anytime soon, but one day."

Today is the day that a lot of people look forward to...and by that, I mean the stores that are prepping for black Friday. What a better way to follow a day that we use to celebrate what we're grateful for: a full-blown war against each other as we scratch and punch our way to the 32 inch LCD TV that is 246 dollars at Target.

I love the irony of it. We have Thanksgiving and we gather around to "give thanks" for everything we have and as soon as the clock hits midnight, people line up at Best Buys and Toys 'R' Us to fight each other for sales. It's like they say, "Yeah, yeah, blah blah blah thanks...where the f*&k is my nine dollar toaster?"

To me, Thanksgiving is a weird holiday. I mean, you're supposed to be thankful, but let's face it, I find it hard to be thankful some years. Sometimes, you don't have money and are wondering where the next dollar will come from. The worst is when you can't be with people you want to be on that day, and the reason it bothers you is because EVERYONE tells you that you HAVE to be with family on THIS day.

It always bothers me when people say, "Well, at least you have your health. That's something to be thankful for." Great. I have "barely breathing" to be thankful for. Thanks. If I were dead, I might not know I'm dead, so is there really a difference?

I'm not trying to be a bummer or bring people down. I like holidays where I can spend time with my family. To me, any time you can hang out with people you want to be with is a cool moment, no holiday needed. It just bothers me sometimes when so much pressure is put on hanging out with family ON THIS SPECIFIC DATE! AHHH...IF YOU MISS TODAY, YOU DON'T LOVE US! AHHHH!

I mean, what about the times we're with you at other times of the year? Don't they count?

I love visiting family around March...know why? BECAUSE AIRFARE IS CHEAP THEN! NO HOLIDAYS, NO ANYTHING.

That's another crappy thing: airlines know that you need to get home so airfare jumps, it doubles in price. The same round-trip fare that is normally 220 dollars is now 563 dollars. You need to start hooking in order to go home, really?

These are the things that bother me about holidays. But again, I'm not a curmudgeon. There are things to be thankful about.

I'm thankful that I've almost beat the new Super Mario Bros. for Wii. I'm thankful that I'm hanging out with family in Dallas (eventhough I wish my brothers were here with me). I'm thankful that the Cowboys JUST scored a touchdown...but most importantly, I'm thankful that Thanksgiving is almost over...because I need to line up to get me some two dollar socks...and those other bitches better watch out for me...or I'll cut them.

Gobble gobble bitches.

Ok, so first of all, I have to start at the beginning. I had a BAD weekend, starting last Thursday and ending today.

First things first, I lost my driver's license on Thursday. Have you ever lost your driver's license? IT SUCKS!!!! It makes me feel like I'm grounded because I can't do a lot of things. It's weird. Bad timing. I lost my ID and suddenly, I was craving a glass of wine. WTF? I had to go Monday to the Arleta DMV office, a couple of minutes away from my apartment. Really, waiting for my license is like the state of California saying, "You're grounded for two to three weeks! Think about what you did..."

Having said that, I'm going to talk about the title of my blog. It's something bad that happened to me that has been leading to me feel bad about myself with more frequency than usual.

I did a set last night at a "Hispanic Heroes" fundraising event in downtown LA. I was asked to do it and quickly agreed because I've always said that one thing I want to do in life is give back the good faith that has been given to me.

The issues that are really close to my heart are Special Olympics and numerous organizations that help the advancement of Latinos as a whole.

The Latino issues are important to me because, obviously...I'm Latina and I always remember that growing up, I never really thought I could do anything with my life because my hometown area (Rio Grande Valley) really didn't have a lot of present positive Latinos to look up to.

Really, other than Edward James Olmos, I never really saw anyone else in movies. Yeah, there were some Latinos that were sprinkled here and there, but no one other than Olmos, to me, that really seemed to be in A LOT of stuff.

Anyhoo, I would love to be in a position in my life where I can go and talk to children of different minorities and let them know that they can really do WHATEVER they want to do in life. I think a lot of times is us not knowing that opportunities exist.

For example, I was an extra in a Funny or Die video this past weekend that featured Betty White. I LOVE BETTY WHITE. People that know me, know that I LOVE THE GOLDEN GIRLS. I got her to autograph a "Golden Girls Fan" watch I own.

I went home that day, staring at my watch and being completely happy...and why? Because I had gotten to meet someone that I NEVER in my life thought I would ever meet.

I grew up really poor, in a tiny town in Texas and really...me growing up and ending up in LA was something that was really unlikely. So for me, the autograph of the watch wasn't just me meeting a Golden Girl (and Mary Tyler Moore star), it was actual proof that I was living in LA, actually doing what I thought as a child, was impossible.

It's hard to explain it. But really, to some people here that get what I'm saying; oh God, what an amazing feeling! It made me feel so good...so good in fact, that I want to make others feel like I did that day...

Which back to the title of the blog, I did a show yesterday (Wednesday) that made me really sad. I was at this lounge where Latinos had congregated to raise money for the Hispanic College Fund and was going to do some stand-up. When the host of the show introduced me, he mentioned my writing credit on Mind of Mencia and some people in the audience instantly started booing. Then he mentioned that I opened up for him on tour and they booed some more.

When that happened, I obviously didn't feel like performing. I wanted to go home.

I felt like I had JUST been judged because of someone else; not me.

I don't mind if I don't get laughs all the time; in fact, I know it's part of stand-up. You learn stuff from shows where you make people laugh and when you struggle-I get that.

I think the thing that really annoyed me was feeling like I was being judged because Mencia's name was mentioned.

It's not MY fault that these people have a problem with Mencia. I am NOT Mencia. How can anyone judge me for having worked with the guy? It's like me hating someone that works for Pizza Hut because I like Papa John's.

It was just a job. I took it because I wanted the exposure and the opportunity. I was a very young comic that wanted stage time. That was it. Then I stopped working with him. I quit. I wasn't fired. I quit.

Now, I just don't get why I'm the one that chose to stop working with him....and I'm the one that's getting booed at shows? What the hell is this about?

It just seems sad that people can make me feel bad about myself when I didn't do anything wrong. If you have a problem with this man, then don't go to his shows, write him, or let him know...but leave me out of it.

I think it just made me feel bad because this happened at a fundraising event for a cause I really believe in. I was there to help...but in the end, I ended up disappointed. Very sad.

I came home last night feeling terrible because this isn't the first time that this has happened. In fact, it's happened quite frequently. That's why, I tell everyone to NEVER mention to anyone that I ever worked with him-I hate getting booed on HIS behalf. I think that's what bothers me too...I get boos from the audience that HE never gets to hear.

It almost makes me feel like I have to apologize for my past, when in reality, it wasn't ALL bad. The best part of working with Mencia was having met these amazing people at the shows.

I got to meet people that told me I was funny and made them feel good for a while. I got to hear people tell me about what a big deal it was for them to go out and be entertained for a while, before they had to go back to their crappy jobs...that was the best part of working with Mencia-being a part of a happy memory for a small group of people.

That's why I do stand-up. I do it because I love that I can entertain people with thoughts that come from my head, my life. It's such a great feeling to know that I can make people laugh. It's such an amazing feeling...like wearing a yellow, plastic watch that has just been signed by a Golden Girl...

So...

I woke up today, feeling miserable about myself and wondering what the hell to do to make me feel better. I really didn't think anything could cheer me up.

I was filled with anger, resentment, sadness and disappointment. I figured I'd feel like that all day...then I went to check the mail.

I got an envelope today that was addressed to me but had no return address. I instantly thought, "These student loan guys are getting crafty..."

But no, I opened up the envelope and found a torn yellow piece of legal pad paper with a note in Spanish that read:

I found your license in the Studio City area.
I hope that I helped you in having found it.
May God bless you.

That was it. Nothing more. No name, no anything. Nothing. I looked in the envelope and there it was: my driver's license that I lost on Thursday night.

And you know what? It made me smile for two reasons.

1. Someone went out of there way to send it to me when they didn't have to and they spoke Spanish-they're Latino...and they were nice to me. They were actually nice to me. This Latino didn't care if I had worked with Carlos Mencia or anything like that. They were just a good person trying to do good.

and..

2. They ended their note with God Bless...and you know what? It made me feel good. It made me feel like someone was watching over me and was there to make me feel better. I don't know how religious people are nowadays, God knows I have my doubting moments but...reading God bless at the end of a kind gesture made me feel like I needed to move on from my bad feelings and realize that life is not always so terrible.

I guess I just wanted to share this with you guys because I think that we've all been there before. I don't know if anyone will really read this but hey, at least I posted it out there for all to read...and hopefully, feel better.

With the sincerest form of love,
Cristela

P.S. Here's a photo of the note that I got in the mail today (I took it on my laptop, so it's backwards, sorry):

I'm watching King of the Hill right now. I love this show. I think that if you're from Texas, you have to LOVE this show. It's really about life there. That's why I watch it.

I have this headache that I feel I've had for a week now. It's annoying. REALLY ANNOYING.

So, I haven't blogged in a while, I know. I feel like I bore people with my blogs because once I start writing, I can't stop.

I just got back from Dallas. I was there for a week but really didn't get a chance to do anything. I didn't see anyone I wanted to see; I hardly hung out with my family.

I was in town working the week at the IMPROV with Aisha Tyler. I had to work on a lot of new jokes for something I'm working on (that I won't talk about) and that made me use up all my "free" time. The only thing I could get to do that I wanted to do was to buy a new pair of sneakers.

For those of you that don't know, I have an EXTENSIVE collection of sneakers. BRIGHT, COLORFUL sneakers. I don't really care about a specific brand; I just like different and bright. This is a picture with some of the stuff I like and own.





Can you believe I painted my own shoes? Of course you can. Because if you know me, you know I love doing stuff like that.

Oh, so I signed up for Twitter but to tell you the truth, I don't think I care for it at all. I don't see the point. Am I missing something or what? I feel like Twitter is for the people out there that think that the ALWAYS do important things. Do you care if I'm "currently making a peanut butter sandwich?" Not really. I'll give it another try though.

Oh, here's another thing I noticed. Since when did Myspace become Rapperspace? It seems like I'm always getting friend invites from rappers that are "thugging and mugging their way to the top". Really?

It's weird because I feel like the internet has helped a lot of talented people get attention but it's also helped ANYONE get attention. So many rappers, so little time.

Ok, so I've been fighting this cold for about a week and a half now and it's really starting to annoy the hell out of me. You know, I'm at that point where I'm getting angry at myself for still being sick. I'll sit on the couch and start coughing. Then, I'll suddenly yell at myself, "Why are you still coughing? You've been doing this forever!" It's really annoying. Yuck.

Ok, so I'm coming to Houston in May. From what I gather, I think I'm doing a two-person show with Alex Reymundo headlining. I'll be doing "headlining" time (45-50 minutes) though, which is cool. I think I'm going to tape those sets and do either a DVD or a CD, I'm still trying to decide on that.
You know what really annoys me? I figured out that I don't like when "comedians" (and I use that term lightly) make jokes about terrible things that happen in the news (like the Chris Brown thing) just because they can't write a joke to save their lives.

I can agree that if you have something specific to say about it, then go ahead and do it. But if you're just trying to make a stupid joke 'cause you're an asshole, then how about you stop "doing stand-up" (if that's what you call it) and try to find a job being a professional douche? There's a difference in trying to make a point about something that bothers you or you're really sincere about and just saying jokes because they're easy and offensive. Know what I mean?

Like the death of Natasha Richardson. It's a sad story. I didn't know her, but that doesn't mean that I can't connect with the death on a human level. Now, why is it that the moment I heard that she passed away, I instantly thought, "Somewhere out there, there are thousands of jerks writing their stupid jokes about this." It really bothered me.

I think that part of me has gotten annoyed with the state of stand-up from certain people. It's pretty sad at times to think that some people can call themselves comedians when they really have nothing to say but bullshit. I get it, Asians can't drive; this is how blacks do this...and the Mexicans blah blah bullshit. How about you just get a notebook out and do something that I've never seen you do before-write?

Oh well, I don't want this blog to be completely full of hate, sorry about that. Sometimes it's so easy to go off on a topic; didn't mean to.

On a lighter note, I taped my sets in Dallas and cut down a small portion of it down to 6 minutes. It's on YouTube and frankly, I don't know how long I'll keep it there so I hope you guys watch it and see what I've been up to. There are two jokes that some of you might've heard and the others, you haven't heard at all.

I don't want to make this blog any longer, I think I'll end it there. My boyfriend Steve is watching The Real World and apparently the soldier is going back to Iraq. All this while I'm playing Metallica's new CD Death Magnetic and listening to The Day That Never Comes (which if you've ever seen the video, it's about war). This is very "movie moment", well kinda.

Ok, so if you'd like, check out the video below. It's REALLY raw, not in cussing, I mean that it's raw in that I didn't do the best editing. I just wanted to show it to a couple of people that needed to see it so I apologize for the quality of the video, but not for the content.

Peace and love!

I know, I know. I've been MIA (missing in action) for a while now. I went down to Dallas for the holidays-LONG holidays. I went with my boyfriend, he's from there and my sister lives there. We DROVE there. I was checking out airfare and it was about 450 per person. Driving there, one way, was about 70 bucks. So thank you recession, for making my holidays possible.I LOVE being in Texas. I don't know what it is. I used to have a joke about how people that are from Texas LOVE being from Texas. They always brag about how great Texas is:"We got the Alamo, we got the Dallas Cowboys (insert joke here), we have bluebonnets, armadillos....YEE HAW!"But we're the only state that does that. You'll never hear a guy yelling:"I'm from Iowa-we got corn. Lots of corn. Woo hoo....um....Iowa!" Anyhoo, I had a ton of fun being with family, especially my nephews and niece. It's crazy to think they're teenagers...and cool teenagers at that. And I have to mention the cutest dog ever, Chester, whom graciously accepted my request to be in a picture with me.

He's adorable, isn't he? I know...It seems that when you're home, time goes by quick because you're trying to fit in all the family face time you can get, which is a little annoying because sometimes you don't get to see all the friends you want to see (like my best friend from high school, Tanya-love you!). But in the end, I loved my visit. I got to do a lot of stuff that I wanted to do-like eat WHATABURGER!!!For those of you that don't know the power that is Whataburger, I feel sorry for you. Let me try to explain it the best way I know how. Um, think of what it would feel like to bite into a burger made out of magic. That's right-magic. That's Whataburger. I was SO happy to eat Whataburger, that I took a picture of it.

When I moved to LA, everyone told me, "YOU HAVE TO GO TO IN AND OUT BURGER! IT'S GREAT!" And I was excited because I thought that I might've found my Californian version of Whataburger. But when I ate it, I was disappointed. Maybe it was because it was hyped up so much-who knows. I also found a problem with the fact that the menu is so small UNLESS you know how to order. You can customize the food at In and Out Burger, you just need to know how to do it. They have "animal style" and some other stuff, which to me was a bit too much. I don't want to have to learn code to eat a good burger.Other than that, I went and did sets at one of my favorite places, the club I started stand-up at, The Backdoor Comedy Club in Dallas, TX. For those of you that live in Dallas and not near Addison IMPROV, you should check this place out-you'll find the best local comics here.Steve and I also went to see our friends, Four Day Weekend, in Fort Worth, TX. They are a group of great guys that do improv and have become an institution in Texas. I highly recommend this show too.

They sell out a lot, and I mean tickets-not morally. Check them out.

And as for me and my stand-up, well, I'm working on stuff. I won't lie to you, it's slow, but good things come to those who wait. I'm working on a lot of new stuff that I need to gather for something that I won't mention because I don't want to jinx it.I'm really busy lately trying to make things happen with my professional life that it's affected my personal life. I've had problems with people that think I'm neglecting them simply because I'm busy. The thing is, they don't understand that I have to really focus on my stand-up, writing, etc. right now.

Having left Mencia, I really have to prove myself worthy as a stand up comedian because I wasn't on Mind of Mencia and frankly, people don't know me. But I'd like to think that the people that have seen me on stage, like me. And I like them. It's weird because I know that I've ignored some of you that write comments and messages to me for a bit. I've been busy. But that doesn't mean I don't care. There are people here on Myspace that I've really connected with-whether it be our love for New Kids on the Block or Housewives of Atlanta, or just the fact that we're women that are trying to lose weight or people that come from small towns. I share my experiences with you guys and want the same in return. I love hearing about what's going on with people, I really do keep tabs. Let's face it, IF I ever make it, it's going to be because people believe in me-REALLY believe in me. And in order for them to believe in me, I feel like they deserve the same treatment. And that's what I do. I believe in you guys.

I don't make New Years Resolutions. I hate them. They're such a quick way to make yourself feel bad. You say you're going to work out...and you jog...for a day...and then you stop...and now you feel like a loser for breaking your resolution.

All I can say is that I know that 2009 will be a fantastic year for me. I just know it. I've sacrificed too much for it to not be. Every year, I always say, "This will be a great year". But this year I realized, that I never really meant it. This year feels different for me. It feels good.

And I wish nothing but the best for everyone out there that reads this blog-whether I can stand you or not.I hope you guys believe what I say. I really like everyone I talk to here and appreciate everything, including the messages and comments.

It's weird but when people come and talk to me after shows, I don't think they realize it but at that moment, they are the most important person to me because I know they don't have to say anything, they can leave and go home-but they don't. And it's because of that, that they really matter to me, even more so than when I'm on stage.

I don't mean to come across like I think I'm this big name or famous or anything. I just want you guys to realize that when you talk, I listen. I figured I'd state that because I wasn't sure if all of you knew that and being that 2009 is going to be a fantastic year for me, why not start the year by making you guys feel fantastic as well. It's only fair, isn't it?

I hope you all had great holidays and I'm back to blogging about my so-called life. By the way, I'm starting a podcast with my boyfriend that will cover our life in LA. We are surprised at how people actually read our blogs and figured that hearing a podcast about two people trying to make it in LA would be interesting, especially to people that have thought about packing up and moving to chase the impossible dream. It'll be filled with both the good stuff and the bad stuff-it's going to be real. I'll let you guys know more about that when we start it.

Love you.

-me

Woah, two blogs in one week, what am I-ambitious?

I haven't been doing too good this week, just to let you know. I've been feeling under the weather and haven't been sleeping very well. I've been feeling pretty weak this week but since today is a holiday-I figured I would share a story of something that really happened to me on a Thanksgiving that has got to go down as the funniest holiday story I know. Here goes:

So it's 2004 and I had just started dating this guy who I really liked. In fact, I liked him so much that we're still dating, four years later. We had decided that we were going to NYC for Thanksgiving just for the hell of it. My awesome friend Rachel had given us reign of her apartment while she was out of town so we figured-why not?

Here's a little side note: My boyfriend, Steve, used to be a cop. It's hilarious when you find this information out because if you see Steve, you know a cop is what you would never think he was. A magician? Maybe. A cop? Never.

Steve is also the kind of guy that likes to over-prepare for EVERYTHING. We had booked the tickets and the guy was on my case from the beginning. He would say the same things over and over again:

"Cristela, you need to wear slip-on shoes so that it's easier to get through security."
"Cristela, don't wear a belt, you'll set off the metal detector."
"Cristela, keep it simple...blah blah blah."

Needless to say, I was getting REALLY annoyed. I've traveled SO MUCH in my life that I have packing down to an art.

So...we're actually flying out on Thanksgiving morning. We wake up and get ready to go to the airport. Steve is annoying me with the same thing:

"Cristela, you need to wear slip-on shoes so that it's easier to get through security."
"Cristela, don't wear a belt, you'll set off the metal detector."
"Cristela, keep it simple...blah blah blah."

It was getting REALLY annoying. We left at about 5 am to the DFW airport (we both lived in Dallas at the time). We had decided to park at an off-airport lot, you know the lot with the yellow bus that has black polka-dots all over it. It's called The Parking Spot. Steve and I really hadn't thought about making a reservation-we were dumb. When we got there, the guy almost laughed at us when we said we wanted to park. Right away, I was like thinking that this was not going to be a fun morning.

Steve and I leave the parking lot and decide to try to find a spot AT the airport, hoping that it won't take too long because we're afraid of the long security lines. We found a spot and walked in. We had printed our boarding passes at his apartment so we walked straight to security because we had nothing to check in.

I went first in line and took off my tennis shoes (no slip-ons here) and I hardly ever wear belts (if you've since my stand up, you know that I love when my pants fall off because it makes me feel like I'm losing weight) so it was pretty easy. I walk through.
Then Steve takes off his shoes and belt and walks through and we're done...OR SO WE THOUGHT.

I saw that the TSA stopped and starting GLARING at Steve's messenger bag. I mean, staring like they had found Osama Bin Laden. I'm getting scared because I don't know what's going on. The TSA suddenly announced that they had to call the airport police. GUYS-THE AIRPORT POLICE! Latinos don't do well with ANY police. I'm thinking, "Damn it, they're going to find out I have a warrant I forgot about or something!"

At this point, MORE TSA employees gather around the messenger bag. The supervisor then yelled "SHUT IT DOWN!" I'm thinking, "Oh my God, what is happening here? Is it because I'm brown, what is it?" Mind you, I had already been cleared so I'm wondering what the hell Steve did.

When the supervisor yells SHUT IT DOWN, EVERYONE waiting in line to go through security is told that they have to go to ANOTHER security gate. At this point I knew what it felt like to be hated by a large group of people.

They looked through his bag and found a can of pepper spray. PEPPER SPRAY! This guy didn't want me wearing a belt but HE could bring pepper spray? WTF?

Then the DFW airport police arrived. They started searching Steve's bag. I'm just standing there not knowing what to do. I was scared. They were taking out all the stuff-a notebook, maps, sunglasses, and some gum. Then, it was at this point that I realized what the hell they were making such a big deal about. The officer reached into Steve's bag, and pulled out a Glock .40 caliber handgun. THAT'S RIGHT-A GUN! AT THE AIRPORT!!! ON THANKSGIVING! WITH ME, WHO IS ETHNIC!???!?!?!? WHAT WHAT WHAT????? A GUN!!!!!!

It was Steve's gun from the police department. Oh my God, EVERYONE was freaking out. They were taking pictures of it from every angle. They were taking pictures of the pepper spray. This was a CSI crime scene. I was terrified. I was just thinking, "Forget Steve, WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING TO HAPPEN TO ME?"

The TSA didn't know whose bags belonged to who because they realized that I was traveling with Steve. They started asking me questions about the stuff. I freak out! I'm already starting my prayer to St. Jude-I think I'm being labeled a terrorist at this point.

But it doesn't stop there. THEN, A TSA guy walks up to me and tells me that Steve's other carry-on bag has just tested positive for explosives. EXPLOSIVES! WHAT?

The officer walked over to Steve and asked him why he had a gun. He explained that he was a cop and forgot the gun was in there, etc. When the TSA guy with the "explosive-tested" carry-on bag heard that he asked, "Do you ever take this bag to the gun range?" Steve says yes nervously. The duffel bag that HE had packed his clothes was also the bag that he took to the gun range twice a year for firearms qualifications. The residue was detected by their machine!

HE gave the TSA his credentials. They called to confirm them and after they did, the police officer seemed to be sympathetic to Steve. He said he was just going to tell his superiors that it was an off-duty cop who was authorized to carry a gun and forgot the gun was there. He said that he'd hold on to his information and only make a report if ordered to do so. He said the TSA would review the events as well and they might require him to do a report as well but he thought everything would blow over.

Our flight time was quickly approaching. Steve asked the officer if the police department could hold on to the gun and spray. Oh, no. the officer had to give them back to him. Steve had to put the gun and pepper spray BACK in his car. That's when I realized that parking at the airport lot was actually a good thing because the car was close enough to where Steve could ACTUALLY go and put them away. The officer said he'd walk Steve back to his car. TSA released me and I went to the gate for the flight.

It took Steve FOREVER to go put the gun and spray back. I was waiting and waiting for a long time and the flight was already boarded. It was about to get down to final boarding. I kept calling Steve but he wasn't answering the phone. I had decided at this point that whether Steve showed up or not-I WAS GETTING ON THAT PLANE.

That's when I saw Steve running down towards the gate. It was final boarding. I have to admit that at this point, I hated him with all my heart. The closer he got, the more I disliked him. He arrived at the gate and we boarded the plane.

I didn't say a word. We got in our seats and I just sat there with her arms tightly folded. I didn't want to talk to him, nor did I want to hear his stupid voice. I was mad, furious. The plane took off and after about 15 minutes, I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to say something to him. So I unfolded my arms, looked at Steve and said the first thing that came to my mind:

"Well, at least your belt didn't set off the fucking metal detector!!"

So that's it, my funniest Thanksgiving holiday story to date. I hope you guys liked it. It's four years later and I can now laugh about it. We probably could've laughed about it earlier had it not been for the $1500 dollar fine that Steve received in a letter a week after we got back from NYC. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Be grateful for what you have and most importantly, thank God that your significant other doesn't take a gun to the airport with him.

First of all, I want to start off by telling everyone that I am vacationing in NYC. Ok. So not really. Let's face it, the economy sucks so no one can afford to go anywhere right now. But I have a HUGE picture of NYC in my living room, so...I'm taking a picture by it so that it looks like I'm there (except that the pic is black and white and I'm brown). I might buy a poster and take a picture there to say I've traveled there too. Maybe India? Always wanted to go to India....



HAVING SAID THAT...

My regular trainer isn't in town this week. He's out for Thanksgiving week. We have another trainer covering for him. She's pretty good....EXCEPT FOR ONE THING. She's one of the those people that loves to use the word "WE" a lot. You know the people.

"WE need to run faster."
"WE need to step it up a notch."
"WE can do better than that."
"WE are not tired."

Ok little lady, here's a news bulletin, Ms. Coordinated Spandex outfit wearer while I have on a t-shirt and sweats, WE are not doing anything. I am the one doing it. NOT YOU. ME. Got it? So let me clear things up.

"I cannot run any faster."
"I will NOT step it up a notch."
"I cannot do better than that."
"I am tired."

It's always ridiculous how people always think that fixing a problem is easier than what it really is. It's kinda like when you break up with someone. You always hear the same advice. "Oh, you'll be fine. Things are going to be better. You'll get over it." I feel like I always want to say the same thing, "REALLY? AM I GOING TO GET OVER IT? YOU MEAN I'M NOT GOING TO LIKE THIS GUY FOR THE REST OF MY F&(KING LIFE? THANK YOU GENIUS. THANK YOU!"

What I'm trying to say is that sometimes people like to make things sound like they're so easy to do.

Take for example, this trainer. Yesterday, we're on the treadmill and she says, "We're going on a short three minute run, flat surface. Go at a run speed-you'll be there for the 3 minutes."

So I go up to a fast amount and then about two minutes later, she says, "Woah, hold on...we can do better than that, can't we? Knock it up one point faster (which is a lot faster).

At that moment, I thought, "NO I CAN'T DO BETTER THAN THAT, OK?" WE CAN'T DO BETTER THAN THAT BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT DOING ANYTHING!?!"

Which brings me to the title of the blog. The Asian woman in bootcamp can go F*&K herself. I don't know her name, so I'll call her "Egg Drop Soup". I call her this because I was thinking of something Asian to call her and this was the first thing that came to my mind. It's not very descriptive but it sounds insulting to her and THAT makes me feel better.

So, "Egg Drop Soup" has been in my bootcamp for a while. She's the type of woman that dresses up to work out. There are a bunch of those in my class. She wears make-up. Who wears make-up to work out? Maybe I'm just sweatier than most people because the moment I start working out, I get drenched. So she comes in wearing her make-up and her tight little clothes. She's thin. She wears spandex, sometimes wearing a t-shirt over her outfit until halfway through the class when she decides that she's "too hot to have this heavy t-shirt on anymore." SIDE NOTE: It's very rare that I see a Latina woman wearing spandex, I always say that most women look hot in spandex if they can carry it well, but most Latina women I know wear spandex and look like Lucha Libre wrestlers (Santos, anyone?).

So Egg Drop Soup and I have been in the same class for a while now and it wasn't only till about a month ago that I realized that we're always almost next to each other. On the treadmill, we'll be close when we get there early. On the benches doing weights, she's very close to me too. I started thinking that maybe, just maybe she was doing it on purpose, being near me that is, because I know that I sure as hell wasn't.

So one day I decided to go to "the boonies". That's what I call the treadmill that is hardest to get to. I wanted to see if she would end up near me. I'd like to think there was a chance that MAYBE just MAYBE we were always close to each other because of luck.

I have mentioned in earlier blogs that I'm the fattest person at the bootcamp. For those of you that missed it, let me recap. I was watching The Biggest Loser on TV and realized that I wanted to lose weight. I figured I would find a boot camp. Part of me thought that me doing a boot camp was ridiculous because I wasn't that fat. I figured that the boot camp would be like Biggest Loser and I would have people that were a lot bigger than me in the class, so that I wouldn't feel horrible about myself and be able to use bigger people to motivate me to losing the weight.

When I started bootcamp I realized I was the fattest person in the class. And by a lot. I was the kind of fat where the trainers would come to me and celebrate that I could move at all. They would tell us to do push-ups for a minute and if they saw me doing one they would celebrate and talk to me like a baby: "Well...look at our big girl doing a push up all by herself. Who's doing a push-up, you are!"

Even now, I've lost around 20 pounds and I'm still the fattest one in the room....ok, you're caught up, now....BACK TO EGG DROP...

So I go to the treadmill in the boonies and guess who ends up in the treadmill next to me? Yeah, SHE does. That is the day I started paying more attention to her and her actions.

I started noticing she loved looking over at me while I was working out. I finally came to the conclusion that she was using me like I had initially wanted to use the bigger people that I thought I would find in boot camp. I was her motivation for her to work out. Every time she slows down, she looks over at me to see if I'm tired and slowing down too. If I don't slow down, then SHE doesn't slow down. If I go faster, then SHE has to go faster. It's kinda like she's saying, "She's fatter than me, if SHE can do that, then I can too."

Then we move on to the weights and the exercises. The bootcamp is divided to sections. Every weekday is different:

Mondays: Arms
Tuesdays: Legs
Wednesdays: Chest and Abs
Thursdays: Shoulders and Back
Fridays: EVERYTHING COMBINED

We start exercising and for most of them we need hand weights. Usually they ask for a heavy, medium and light set. I usually carry about a 12, 10 and 8. She does too. We start exercising, like when we're doing crunches. I'll be in the middle of a crunch, when I turn around and look at her, and she's looking at me to see if I'm going to stop crunching.

REALLY? What is this woman's problem? Does she not know what she's doing? She makes me soooo mad. I want to tell her something but I've never spoken a word to her.

Everyday, it's the same thing. I mean, when does it stop? I'm just afraid that one day I'll be at a store trying something on and will walk out only to see Egg Drop Soup wearing the same exact thing I'm wearing, but in a smaller size.

I think this is a very common thing amongst women. Women love to compete with other women. That's what it's all about for most, isn't it? Is it like that for men, I wonder?

Like I'll see a picture of Jessica Alba and think, "She has great eyebrows." Then I get my eyebrows done like her...only guess what? I DONT LOOK ANY CLOSER TO HER THAN WHAT I DID BEFORE!

I wonder if a guy looks at a picture of Tom Brady holding a football and then goes and buys a football in the hopes that the ball makes him look more like Brady?

I don't know how long this is going to last with this woman. I'm Latina...and if there's one thing I know...is you should NEVER make a Mexican woman angry...because we are awful when we get angry. If you don't believe me, just CLICK HERE and you'll see a popular Pablo Francisco clip about Latinas and their temper.

I'm signing off now...just wanted to share with you my latest story of my life. If you guys have any suggestions on how to deal with this Asian woman...I'm all ears. Actually, I'm not all ears...that would be a weird look...to be all ears....but you know what I'm saying.

I remember a long while ago, I was at a store being followed by a little girl who couldn't have been more than 8 and was with her mother. I think that after a while the little girl finally mustered up the courage to tell me what I think she was thinking since she saw me. She looked at me, scrunched up her nose and told her mother, "That girl over there is brown. She's ugly." Her mother told her to quiet down but didn't correct her or get upset.

I remember being shocked but really, I was used to it. When I was a little girl, I had REALLY dark skin, more so than I do now. I went to a school full of mostly Mexican and very few white kids. When I was in first and second grade, there were some kids that would come and find me, only to taunt me and call me the "n" word because I was very dark-complected. It always came out of nowhere. I'd be in the middle of a serious game of freeze tag, and boom! Some boy or girl would come running up close to me, call me the "n" word and leave. And that wasn't the only name they'd call me. I was called "Hershey bar" and (I forgot to mention I was also a chubby kid) so a really popular name that they came up with, was "tire". Because the kids said, I was black and round...like a tire.

I told teachers about the kids but really, nothing was ever done. I just had to get over it. Which honestly, I don't think I ever did.

Over the years, I went through a phase like in the classic Brady Bunch episode where Jan tries everything to get rid of her freckles. I would stay indoors as much as I could so that I wouldn't get tanned from the sun. I wanted skin whiteners. I didn't want to be my shade. I wanted to be white. White and like everyone else, because then, no one could make fun of me. NO ONE.

Aside from the racial slurs, I would get insulted really bad for being the poor kid. I remember when I was in high school, my mother told me that she hoped I would go to cosmetology school, get a degree and cut hair. That was the most I could shoot for. But then again, considering that I was the daughter of an illegal alien (at this point, she was a resident alien-she had a passport) I think my mom thought that low expectations were all we could have.

I think that's why I cried the day Barack Obama won the election. Here's proof:


I know I wasn't the only one.

Many people cried that night...everyone having their own reason.

I think that for me, like everyone else, I felt like Barack Obama winning meant so much more than just the presidency. To me, I realized that maybe, just maybe, we as a country had grown up and had FINALLY been able to move past the issue of color.

And I'm not saying that racism is gone but, for that moment, when Barack Obama came out to give his acceptance speech, I realized that he was a true symbol of how anyone can accomplish anything in this world, regardless of what they are. He isn't just a hero for the African American community, but for EVERYONE that has ever been called a racial slur, or told that they don't matter as much as everyone else because of what they are on the most basic of all levels.

I guess to me, I feel like the moment that he won, the little girl inside me that was called the "N" word, Hershey bar and tire, as a child smiled, because in a way, she felt that the teachers had FINALLY done something to fix the problem that they ignored when she was in school.

By the way, I say the "N" word because the mere sound of that word depresses me. Even saying "N" word makes me feel weird because I know what I'm trying to say without really saying it.

Anyhoo, talking about the "N" word makes me think of my former boss who says that word in his stand up quite a bit-which brings me to my blog title. It's been over a month since I stopped working with Mencia and really...I couldn't be happier and sadder. I'm happier because I've realized that I'm getting back to being the kind of person I was BEFORE I met Ned. Not that I was a totally different person when I was working with him but, I feel like I kinda lost myself being with him. Of course though, I'm a little sad because I don't get to see anyone that I keep in touch with here on Myspace on the road which blows.

Since I left, I've decided to slowly change my set a little bit. I'm writing more jokes that I'm a lot happier with which makes me very excited. In the upcoming year, my goal is to find an agent that I will get along with and hit the road.

Here's a "typical Hollywood story" for you guys. I had been told by an agent a couple of years ago that he wanted to help me out, but it turned out to be bullsh*t. I fell for it because I was gullible and this guy was a big agent. In fact, it was so ridiculous that I actually had the chance to meet with two big agencies and turned them down because I really believed that THIS agent that I'm referring to, would help me. He didn't and now I'm left without any representation at all.

So, in the next upcoming months, I want to make real progress in my stand up. I want to check out comedy festivals, I want to do some comedy clubs...and I want to pitch some show ideas I'm working on.

I also want to get to my goal weight. I'm still doing my boot camp. I've hit a plateau. I haven't lost more weight. I'm at about 23 lbs weight loss but I want more. I'm figuring I need to work out more but then part of me says, "I'M ALREADY DOING A FREAKIN' BOOT CAMP----WHAT MORE CAN I POSSIBLY DO????" I'm still doing it though. I'm just hoping it pays off eventually. I guess it already has though because I have lost a lot of weight already--I just want to lose more. I'm so typical-I can never be happy with the progress I've made, I only see the negative stuff. I need to get over that. I know.

I guess I should wrap this blog up because I feel like I've rambled long enough. I'm not going to "pussy-foot" around. I'm at a real turning point in my life. Leaving Mencia changed everything for me. I "lost" the friends I made when I was on the road with Mencia because I don't talk to them anymore. Friends meaning some of the people that work with him on the road, people that I knew for years. Those relationships are gone, but I guess that just goes to show that maybe we weren't ever friends like I thought we were, but mere co-workers. And I don't say that to sound bitchy, but you know, when you walk away from something, you walk away from everything. So my circle of friends has shrunk down to a handful, which is actually pretty great for me because I really like keeping to myself. The amount of work I had totally disappeared because I worked with Ned year-round. So now, I'm unemployed trying to make ends meet, meaning that I'm going to have to get a "day job" in order to pay bills while I go around town and try my new jokes. But you know what? Not talking to a lot of the people I used to and having to maybe get a "real" job to pay bills, is a lot better than where I was: in a situation where I was miserable.

My life is changing for the better...and so is America's. And I'm excited.

This girl, once referred to as a "tire" is happy to be where she's at, both physically and emotionally. Take care guys!

Love ya!