The Reception Chronicles

Public Service Announcement: Don’t Propose To Your Girlfriend At A Sport’s Game

As women, we love to reserve the right to say that our lives are more difficult than men.  Periods, child birth, equal rights, waxing, wearing heels, keeping fit, wrinkles, sagging and so on. We love to complain.  While it does seem that men have it easier, there is one thing that makes me so happy that I am a woman.

Men have to propose.

Think about it and break down a proposal.  We may have it rough ladies but nothing can compare to this obstacle men must face and the tragedy if they are turned down.

There are three terrifying steps in this process and the first is a buying a ring.  Every time I see a guy browsing through engagement rings at a jewelry store I feel so bad for them.  They maintain a sense of calm but while they are being bombarded by sales people and pretending to know the difference between a princess and emerald cut, they are thinking in their head “if I get this wrong, she is going to accuse me of not listening or knowing her enough.  Not to mention it will be evidence that she will carry for the rest of our lives that I don’t listen to her.”  After being schmoozed around the store and being talked into a diamond way more expensive than he intended, you watch as the poor guy walks out of the store dazed with a small Pandora’s box of a bag.

The second step is picking out the place and time until E-Day.  There are so many options but be warned that some may turn catastrophic.  Overall there are two basic options: In private or in the public arena.  My guy knows my personality pretty well in the aspect that I don’t like attracting attention in public.  So when he proposed, he did it in the middle of the mountains in a national park in Ireland with no one in sight.  It was an agoraphobic’s dream of a proposal and I loved it.  It also gave me the opportunity to jump around like an ecstatic gerbil and take in the amazing moment without judgment from people…otherwise known as “haterz.” Know your woman well or else this choice could really backfire.

The last step is of course the proposal.  I cannot imagine the anxiety and pure terror that is swirling around in a guys head this day.  It is the one moment in their life when they giving up complete control and putt everything on the line and hopefully for all you fellas out there, it works out.  The devastation of a “no” is something I cannot imagine and would not wish on any person.

My main word of advice: do NOT propose in front of thousands of people at a sports game or event.  Not only are you crushed if she says no, you are now the biggest loser in a group of thousands and get to cherish the moment because it was all captured on camera.  Do you really want thousands of people to feel sorry for you at one time? I can’t imagine the degree of pathetic loser that must feel like but you took the risk.  Not only that but you involve everyone in your embarrassing incident.  Do you ever watch someone doing something ridiculous and you actually feel embarrassed just watching?  Remember that you are taking the whole ship down with you in this stunt.  But hey some girls like the attention.  I know if it was me I wouldn’t get a chance to say anything because I would be in cardiac arrest.

You hear stories that some individuals (not going to say people because I don’t think you can classify them as people in this situation) do this as a publicity stunt.  Are we as a society seriously this bored these days?  Whatever happened to going to the movies or to a nice dinner? Apparently it’s a new era and we get our kicks by faking proposals at sporting events.  I blame YouTube.

On the other hand, you can view it as a Public Service Announcement to warn men out there.  If you do this, this is how horrible it may backfire.  Oh how it will backfire.

Video courtesy of theToshpoint:


6 Signs of the Drunken Boyfriend/Husband

1. Denial Ain’t Just A River In Egypt

The famous last words. As they cling onto the wall, have one eye closed and enunciate every syllable, the classic “i’m not drunk” quote marks the beginning of a long night ahead.

2. We Landed On The Moon

The astronaut walking occurs when your man tries to walk in a way to prove they are not drunk but instead appears to have just landed on the moon.

3. Cross Eyed

This is a clear sign of a drunken boyfriend because not only are they looking at you, they are looking at someone else across the room at the same time. This is usually intermixed with some I love you’s and drunk denials. I find that if you continually clap near their face, they will snap out of it but it is only a temporary remedy so portion them wisely throughout the night.

4. The Travelling Brewery

The worst part of the drunken boyfriend/husband is when they tuck up in bed with you smelling as if they have taken a bath is booze. They exhale it and sweat it out to the point that you feel like you are suffering from second hand intoxication.

5.I Just Need Some Water

The dehydration begins when he puts on an innocent face and says “i just need some water” when in fact it is gallons of water that is consumed.

6. I Loooove You

Of course they love you but it would be nice to hear it sometimes when your fella isn’t hanging onto the wall or cross eyed. It is at this time they try to convince you and emphasize how much they love you. If you record these feelings of love and play it in their sober state, it just embarrasses everybody so just leave it as a drunken mishap.

2012: A Fortune Cookie Resolution

The new year is here.  I can spend hours trying to think of a resolution but I have never been a great planner.  So I do the next best thing.  Crack open a fortune cookie.

Happy New Year everyone.  Make the most of it.

A True Modern Family: Multicultural and Eccentrically Amazing

Change is something we must accept as a part of life.  We can choose to attempt to grasp on to past traditions and ideas or go with the flow and face the fact that it is natural.  I have known that my family is different for quite some time.  We love each other, face hard times together, fight with each other and lose touch at times but at the end of the day we are a family.

Growing up in Boston, I spent time with extended family but we mostly kept to ourselves.  My father and most of his family (four brothers and a sister) have been in Massachusetts their entire lives.  They have Irish and French origins but they are like any Caucasian family in America.  My mother is from Chile.  They met in Boston many years ago and her addition to the family was probably the extent of ethnicity that my fathers side of the family has experienced since Taco Bell opened its doors.

I have two sisters.  Kristen is a year older than me and Michelle is several years older.  Michelle is a half sister but to me that term is nonsense.  Putting a label such as half in regards to family is a ridiculous concept.  She is my sister.  If you look at my entire extended family as a whole, me and my sisters are the mutts.  Two are a mix of Irish and Chilean and one is a mix of Irish and Thai.  In our younger years, we all noticed that we stuck out.  Family photos would consist of a group of fair haired and blue eyed families and then us sticking out like sore thumbs.  The three kids with out of control wavy dark hair, uni brows, dark eyes and freckles.

At 18, me and my family were scattered around the world.  My parents stayed in California, I moved to the UK, Kristen lived in Chile and Michelle went out to Vegas.  As a young adult that got to experience this, I would recommend to any parent to have your child experience another part of the world for a few years.  Travel does truly broaden the mind.

Five years later, I am back living in California and have brought back an Irish souvenir and will soon be marrying this trinket.  It has been a long time since I thought about being an odd family until the Christmas Holiday.  It was not until we sat down for dinner that I realized how I have a crazy, amazing family.

We had relatives from the east coast for Christmas which consisted of my Caucasian grandmother, aunt, husband and two children at one end of the table.  Then my family…

My Irish father, my Chilean mother, my Irish-Chilean sister and her Chilean-Turkish boyfriend, my Irish-Thai sister and her Mexican husband with their Irish-Thai-Mexican daughter, my guy and then me.  It is quite the sight.

Now of course the negative. The downside of having such a unique mix of people is the ignorance you face such as speaking loudly and using hand signals to someone from another background.  Raising your voice and speaking at turtle speed does not make the person understand English.  They are foreign, not deaf.  Another one of my favorites is placing someone of a different race into a stereotype such as having middle eastern decent makes you an “Aay-Rab” as my grandmother so lovingly puts it or being Mexican makes you a border jumping gangster gardener or having someone telling you that you look like the Chiquita Banana lady.  Sadly as an adult and being part of a family of mixed races, you do face ignorance and racist comments.  It doesn’t bother me anymore because I realize that a person being racist only makes them look unintelligent and ignorant, not me.

What does bother me is I now have a niece.  Vivienne is just a year old and I know I am biased saying this but she is just the cutest baby in the world. She is a mix of Irish, Mexican and Thai.  She rarely cries, dances and makes me happy.  It doesn’t take much to make her happy.  As you can see in the picture above, a balloon has made her day.  While being so happy to be an aunt, it makes me so scared and so worried that she is going to grow up into a world that is so full of hate, discrimination and intolerance, even from people that are close to you.  There is only so much you can do to protect her from being kicked down.  From bullies in school to ignorant adults, she will need to face them all.  In a world that is constantly changing, it is hard for me to understand that as we become more different, we become more intolerant.

At a young age I was confused.  Now I am so proud to have such a multicultural family and wouldn’t change anything about them.  We often joke around and call ourselves the UN family but at the end of the day that does not matter.  We are a family that sticks together and loves each other.

Point of the story: If someone is different, treat them with respect.  The world is changing.  Deal with it.


Weekly Photo Challenge: Between

Maggie loves to sleep between the cushions.

The 5 Stages Of A Monstrous Cold

We all have to face a simple fact in life.  Everybody gets sick.  There are numerous products on the market that tells us that if we use this and spray that, we can avoid harmful bacteria and illness.  Lies!  Even if you use anti-bacterial lotion as much as you blink, there is no escaping it.  It is inevitable.  You will at some time in your life catch a cold.

It always starts the same way.  You are feeling great and on top of the world until a coworker, friend or stranger is showing symptoms of a cold.  They wipe their nose carelessly, sneeze into the air as if trying to blow away the devil and perform an exorcism of a cough.  You immediately cower away and make a quick escape hoping that the infection, also known as cooties, has not entered your personal space.  Time passes and you feel fine and think phew thank god I got out of that one.  Alas, it is too late.  The cold is lurking, building up strength and preparing to release the Kraken.  Prepare to enter the 5 stages of a dreadful cold.


Your alarm goes off.  Instead of waking from a peaceful sleep and stretching, a sense of dread overcomes your body.  It is barely there but you feel it.  The itchy tickle in your throat.  Before falling apart in hysterics, you calm yourself and think “its okay, some throat medicine and lots of orange juice. It will be fine.”  You pump your system full of cold and flu medicines as if to build an armored wall in your body to conquer the oncoming illness.  Like a deck of cards, they come crashing down.  As the day progresses, more symptoms begin to appear.  A phlegm cough, a sneeze or two and a sore throat.  You ignore the symptoms in order to pretend yourself out of it.  When the symptoms are apparent to friends, family and coworkers, they make the same face you did yesterday.  As if you are turning into a werewolf, they back away slowly with their hands defensively outstretched then turn to run away and warn the others.  The word is out: You are sick.


It is at this stage that you face the ugly truth.  As everyone hides, you slump away like a leper and go home.  The symptoms are rapidly progressing. Your nose is slowly turning raw and red from constantly wiping, the cold sweats are kicking in, the exhaustion is taking over, your ability to speak is degrading to a mumble and your words begin to end in D.  You are not fine-d.  You are not fine-d at all.  Even though you know it is too late, you continue to pump medicine into your system.  It is time to switch to the heavy duty stuff to put yourself into a sleepy coma.  As society casts you away to the leper colony, you slip into your PJ’s and load up on supplies.  It is at this time you retreat to your dark cave of a room.


This is known as the zombie stage.  You are unrecognizable of your former self and have been deserted.  You lay in the dark slipping in and out of NyQuil hallucinations while a TV is playing out of date sitcoms ranging from I Love Lucy to Seinfeld.  You have lost the will power to speak and resort to making Chewbacca noises.  Occasionally, some Goonie family members will enter to catch a glimpse of the Sloth as they tread over used tissues and pill cases in order to drop off some crackers, ginger ale and other cold remedies.  This is rock bottom of the cold.  As you hear birds chirping, children playing and party music, you lay in a bed of your own sweat and hope that someone will put you out of your misery.


You wake up from a deep sleep and slowly open your eyes.  The sweats are gone, you have energy, the nose running has ceased and it no longer feels like you are swallowing knives.  You look around at the aftermath of the situation.  Blankets strewn among the bed, mounds of tissues, empty water bottles, Saltine crumbs on your night stand and empty pill cases.  You draw back the shade and the glorious shine of the sun glares into your cave.  The sun warms your face as “Oh Happy Day” blasts through the speakers.  You open the door with a slow creak and walk back out into society in your rags of clothing.  The cold is not completely gone but the worst is over.  The sea is beginning to calm.


You have made a full recovery minus some coughing and fatigue but it is time to get back to life and the real world.  You appreciate the small things in life and remain in this state of happiness for a few days.  A short time after your illness, someone that you have been in contact with is beginning to show signs of being sick.  You look upon them with pity and sorrow as they trudge down the way to the leper colony knowing that the next few days will be an intense battle of human strength.

The best thing to do when it hits you is to accept it.  You may feel healthy now but be aware of the cooties that lurk in your path.

Picture courtesy of

Italy From The Eyes Of A Confused 23 Year Old

12 Days in Italy, 2 in Croatia and one camera.  While it is expected and exciting to take pictures of historical landmarks, I realize I can always buy a postcard or take a picture that thousands of others have taken at this exact angle.  I thought why not point the camera in the opposite direction of these famous places.  Look for the outstanding, not the traditional.  It makes life interesting.

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