The Power of the Bestie

People throw around the word “best friend” left and right, but what exactly defines a “ride or die homie”?   I know what it means for me.  Now that I’m getting older (there is proof of this because I recently purchased an under eye cream), I now understand the basic elements that make a great friend.  I’ve been in plenty of the classic type of friendships: the frenemies, the one-sided friendships, the “let’s hangout” but never do friends, the friend that will drop you the minute “man pleasure” is on the table.  So tons…

To the late night chats!  To the drunken messy nights! To the silence that is not awkward!  To the no judgement eating sessions! To call them out on their shit!  To telling them how they really look in that outfit…it’s all cuz we’re homies.

Me and my lady friend (the co-founder of The BBB) have gone through a lot, we don’t like to label anything but we’ve declared our bestie love…Even more so cuz I left the state and broke up our shared duplex family.  But proximity isn’t the only thing needed to be friends.

I have taken 4 famous BFFs to really articulate what it means to be a best friend…

1. Cory Mathews and Shawn Hunter (Boy Meets World)

These two have the classic element of “balance”.  Cory was a super anxious “good guy”, whereas Shawn was the kinda orphan “bad boy.”  He wore a flannel around the waist like a juvenile boss.  The best part of their friendship for me was that Cory always was family to Shawn.  Shawn later had hottie Matthew Lawrence, but still Cory and Shawn were hermanos.

2. Illana and Abby (Broad City)

I’m obsessed with this show.  If you know what’s good for you, you’ll find all the episodes and devour them.  Illana and Abby give a refreshing look at female friendships for folks in their 20’s.  Illana is a bit of the crazy impulsive one, whereas Abby is the more practical “responsible” one.  All in all they have each others back and really champion one another.  I think a hazardous thing in “friendships” is competitiveness.  Why is it so difficult to support one another??

3. Daria and Jane

What I love about this duo is their “keeping it real” delivery coated in large amounts of sarcasm.  This is the only language I’m really fluent in, not so much English and even less Spanish.  I feel that together their power only increases, I feel as though this is the same feeling folks get when Marb$ and I are in the same place at the same time.  Our power together delivers tons of bitch face and sassy comments when you say something stupid.

4. Liz Parker and Maria DeLuca (Roswell)

In the “courting” years, Marb$ and I discovered that we were the same 8th grade dorks that were obsessed with Roswell.  I should have known from that moment we were gonna be hetero life partners.  When I was a middle schooler, Liz and Maria were not only the epitome of besties, but they were fashion icons for the time (1999-ish)!  I want to rock a choker!!  But I’ll look like I’m dying. The element of their relationship I always loved was their need to always spill secrets to one another.  I mean they held the epic secret of ALIENS.  If you have a secret…isn’t it fun to tell your bestie? Especially boy drama.




I’m The Worst Ex-Girlfriend

“What do you think I am, una gringa? Because that’s how los gringos are, they don’t have any morals. They all have dinner with each other like it’s nothing. “That’s because we’re civilized,” a turista once explained to me. What a barbarity! Civilized? You call that civilized? Like dogs. Worse than dogs. If I caught my ex with his “other,” I’d stab them both with a kitchen fork. I would!” – Caramelo, Sandra Cisneros

Let me just preface this post by telling you how lovely I am. I’m an absolute peach, I swear. However, if I have been crossed,betrayed, or wronged, I am the ultimate grudge holder. The older I get, the more I am willing to let go of these useless feelings. Resentment, anger, and sadness will make you rot from the inside out. In my late teens and early twenties, I didn’t know how to harness any sort of emotions, good or bad, because I hated to feel anything at all. When feelings of rage popped up, I had a tendency of hopping on them like a cowboy at a rodeo. I think the worst feeling is having someone break-up with you for good. They know everything about you, and  they still do not want you. After a break-up, they walk around armed with your darkest secrets and a list of your insecurities. This is why they must be destroyed.

Below is a list of things I have done in the past as a less-than-friendly-ex-griflriend. Most of these malicious acts occurred in my late teens and early twenties. I’m sharing these experiences with you all because I can laugh about everything now, even though back then, it felt like the end of the world.


MySpace! Talk about #TBT! The original social platform that destroyed relationships and lives! Way back when, I broke into my ex-boyfriend’s Myspace profile and added some colorful information to his profile. You see, the “About Me” section in your profile was important because it hooked people into sending you a “friend request.” This fool’s About Me section was paragraphs long; he thought he was the greatest person ever. I decided, that it would be fun to include things like: “I used to be fat, but now I’m making up for lost time.” In my defense, this was true, and the public had a right to know this information. I also changed his sexual orientation status from straight to gay. It gave me a pang of satisfaction whenever I checked his MySpace and saw that he hadn’t realized what I had done.

You’re wondering how I broke into his MySpace? He asked me to create an e-mail account once while we were dating. With that same e-mail account, he had created his MySpace profile. Since I already knew his e-mail password, I simply clicked, “lost password” and had it sent to his e-mail. Have I scared you yet? Oh yes, and I also kept tabs on his messages for awhile. His outbox was full of thirsty messages to the girls of MySpace, and because they were so sad and pathetic, I was able to move on.


I barely remember my own phone number now, but back when I was dating this other fool, I knew his number by heart . When we broke up, I was stuck with this useless combination of numbers in my brain. After one night of dancing and drinking downtown, my friends and I were approached by Arab gentleman. One of them demanded: “give me number.” I then gave him this random combination of numbers that all of a sudden became useful. He then asked, “why isn’t phone ringing?” and I said, “well it’s dead, but text me ‘sexy’ in a couple of hours so I know it’s you.”

False Claims of Gay Behavior

The following statements have been said by me after relationships:

“I don’t know, he said he felt safe enough with me to admit that he was sometimes attracted to dudes.”

“He said when he was about 14, he kissed one of his friends. Like they did it sometimes, to practice or something.”

Both are false, none of these statements actually happened. However, one guy did say: “Brokeback Mountain is a beautiful love story.” This didn’t have anything to do with homosexual tendencies, he was trying to come across as socially progressive.

Back when I was way more immature, being with me was like being part of a two-person gang. If you wanted “out” of my two-person gang (also known as a relationship), you had to go through the gang-disassociation protocol. Instead of enduring an intense beat-down by your old clicka , you had to put up with my secret wrath. Now, the older I get, the lazier I am. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s on you, boo boo. I’m too fierce for most people anyway.

Go, Whiteboy, Go.

Robin Thicke, I love you.

“No te gustan los güeros,  pero pa’ la proxima?” (You don’t like white guys, but maybe next time?)– My Dad’s dating advice to me about six months ago.

My dad is a full-blooded, tortilla-eating, I’ve-been-here-forty-years-but-speak-English-like-I-crossed-the-border-yesterday type of Mexican. He does own a tejana (cowboy hat) and botas, but he doesn’t wear those in public. He’s kind of metro, but I digress.

During our old blogging days, we dissected “Brown Man disease”–the “disease” men in our community suffer from and the side effects (patriarchy, machismo, hypermasculinity, all that fun stuff) Although we took a humorous tone discussing these things, it came from a place of experience. My dad is Brown Man disease positive. For my dad to insist I try and date a white man is his way of saying, “Mija, as a self-identified brown man, they are no good for you. Run. Save yourself. Those brown men will give you headaches. I know this because I am one. Own a house. Climb that socioeconomic ladder, girl. Get it.”

In the past, I have been rather close-minded. I was 16 years old when I “dated” the last white boy. Naturally, like attracts like. My preference has been to date brown dudes because they “get it.” They get what it mean to have split identities. I don’t have to explain why it smells like Mexican food at my parents house, or why they watch Sabado Gigante sometimes. Trying to explain these things is exhausting. Also, I don’t want to be judged. People judge what they don’t know, and if you judge my identity or my family’s customs, you might as well stick a knife in my heart and twist.

In the past, I have talked about “swirls”– white guys with some sort of debonair/urban twist. Robin Thicke and Justin Timberlake are the complete definition of a swirl. These men can do no wrong and have charm for days. They most definitely can get it.

Vintage Justin T-Lake

I’ve tried to give white guys a chance. I really have. But once they start with the, “I love soccer, oh, I’m sorry, futbol.” I gag. Here is a list of white guy behavior that automatically turns me off:

  • Telling me about their study abroad trip to Mexico and how they can order “cerveza” like a pro. Afterward, I usually say something along the lines of, “Isn’t it interesting how you can just go into another country with a passport like it’s not a big deal? But my family has had paperwork submitted for their visas since 1995. The borders are closed for them to enter your country, but they can be open for you so you can learn how to binge drink and act like an asshole in a foreign country–my parent’s birth country.” My mind automatically goes to immigration. I’m built that way because I grew up with it in my home. I can’t just turn it off. So yes, I’m going to share my perspective on the matter because I feel it is important. 
  • Practicing Spanish. This is the most annoying to me. My ability to roll my “R’s” or say things like they are supposed to be said in another language is not a party trick. I’m not your puppet.
  • Telling me they only “prefer” Latinas. How disgusting. A person who has the most socioeconomic power telling me that he “prefers” Latinas, as if I were some sort of ice cream flavor. Like he could have the pick of the litter, but he chooses Latinas, as if it’s supposed to be some sort of honor.

I’ve had small crushes on white guys in the past. Stefanie can attest to this since she witnessed me trying to lay the mack down on one guy in particular back in college. Its true, back in 2008/2009, I had a crush on a guy we dubbed, “swirl #1.” He was a sharp dresser, listened to hip-hop, and had a flirty personality. We had several communication studies classes together because we had the same major, but I was always too chicken to try anything. When I talked to him, I tried to channel this:

But Stefanie said I squirmed and acted so awkward that it was more like this: 

At this time in my life, I am currently open to whatever situation comes my way. This includes major life-decisions and small choices. I’m not looking for a full-blown relationship with anyone, but if a fly white boy wants to say what’s up, I’ll say hi back. I was recently in Seattle and I initiated a conversation with the cute white boy bartender. We hit it off and he asked for my number. I never heard from him again. I was pretty bummed because he was cute and mostly because I went out on a limb. My friends didn’t hear the end of it for a couple of days, and I openly apologize to them for that, but it was new experience for me! Anyway, I just have to keep it moving. His loss!