Monday, October 17, 2005

Um. No.

Ok, this is just wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. My eyes are burning. Ahhhhhh! Marc Anthony obviously is slipping Jennifer drugs or something because I seriously cannot even comprehend the seriously fucked up event occurring in this photo. He looks like he is going to get grease all over her! You see how his hand is all knotted up and he is shoving her to him? It's because she's afraid he's going to hit her. She's afraid of him gente. ASUSTADA! She should be afraid. She should be afraid for herself, her future, and her womb because if she grows a little sapo Anthony baby in there it' s going to come out a salamander and turn into a little frog. A greasy little frog that can dance, but a frog none the less. Rib-bit. Ugh. I just got the chills. Gross.

Friday, October 14, 2005

Anatomy of a Gelat Sweet 16

My Super Sweet Sixteen has been on my mind lately. A lot. A lot, a lot. And not in a good way. Last season it was all about Ava. Her dad “ruuuuuined her birthdayyyyy!” because he didn’t get her the Land Rover she demanded with a stomp and a pout. Hart came in a close second when his father instructed him to hire hookers off the street to populate his empty party. Insert sounds of crickets here. Then there was that girl from Roswell with the complex because people thought she was rancho and was going to only invite Mulder and Scully to her party. It was all very interesting. I watched it. I enjoyed it. I digested it….though sometimes it sat in my stomach like a rock for a while because I just couldn’t believe what my peeps were peepin’ when these little bitches were getting BMW’s at 16. I’m 29 and drive a Honda. Let’s keep it real.

But this year the tables were turned. Things changed. And you know why they changed? Because the Gelats got involved. That’s right. MTV finally decided to bring it home, show us where it all started, back to the peeps who really know how to throw a party….the parents of young latino girls.

This season we had the pleasure of meeting Lila and Janelle, Mexican and Cuban respectively. And these two little gelat princesas threw their parties in style. Let’s recap together what a real Super Sweet 16 should look like.

Anatomy of a Gelat Super Sweet 16

Your Father should be very mysterious and make ambiguous references to his work. We all know he is a drug dealer or Narco, but girl we won’t tell. Noticed how Lila lived in San Diego, very close to the border? We never saw her dad really. Her mom had very good taste and came from a wealthy family from the motherland. Wealthy Mexicans is a bit of an oxymoron on most days. But not when you are talking about wealthy Mexicans within close proximity to that big giant fence separating the United States from Mexico. For me, the private plane with the Mexican flag embossed on the side was a tell tale sign that these people don’t fuck around. Hmmm. Janelle lives in Florida. And while you might think that Florida is all about sunshine and sandy beaches. It’s also about snow, the kind that goes up your nose. Janelle’s dad kind of hung out and handed her large amounts of cash. He also had a hairy chest and rings. While not wholly incriminating, they make you wonder.

Be afraid of your moms. Be very afraid. You notice how all the other little brats on My Super Sweet 16 were all up in their mother’s grills, throwing fits and being little mocosas. Not Lila and Janelle. When they got out of line, one word from their mothers and that was it. They clammed up like little abalones. When Lila’s mom didn’t like the dress she picked out in Vegas, all she had to say was “I don like eet.” “But mammmmiiii!” “I say, I don like eet. No Lila!” Done and done. When Janelle tried to blame the hair dresser for the upsetting ponytails that her damas wore, she too gave a “But mammmmiiiii”…to which her mother replied “I don like them. They look like horses. Don’t blame the hair dresser, Janelle. Do them over. NOW!” Done and done.

You crash the party, you deal with moms. Lila’s mom had silver charms engraved in Mexico with numbers on them to denote people’s invitation to her daughter’s party. She then proceeded to stand at the door and bite every single one of them with her teeth to determine their authenticity. Ouch. Janelle’s mom told some little booty party crashers that they weren’t invited and they should leave, besides their outfits weren’t nice enough to get into the party anyway. Latino mothers have their standards!

All dancing will be choreographed. Gelats don’t like to make fools out of themselves. We all pride ourselves in our sense of rhythm. That’s why Janelle had some serious choreography going on in her quincieanera. There was a waltz, a salsa, a rumba. Those little latin hips were a shakin’. Lila’s mom hired a groupo from good old Tijuana, clad in silk lime green shirts to lead the whole party in choreographed fantastical joyousness.

Remember, this party is for your family, not you. Lila and Janelle’s parties were all about their extended families. All 100 of them. V.I.P. needs to be standing for Very Important Primos because that is who you are going to find drinking all your liquor and dancing on the tables. Your grandma may also decide to participate in the carousing after a few margaritas. Prepare yourself.

Now when I was of age and asked my mom if I was getting a quinceanera she turned to me and asked me if I wanted to go to college. I said yes. She then told me that there was no way in hell she was wasting her money on a stupid party for a fifteen year old girl. Done. End of conversation. So Lila and Janelle, I’d like to thank you for letting me live vicariously through you. I may not have a jet, my dad may not sell drugs, but I am afraid of my mom, have about a hundred primos, and dammit I can dance. So let’s see those little white girls on MTV top that bitches!

**Disclaimer: The Brown Office of Financial Aid would also like to extend it’s thanks to my mother for her checks. They’re scared of her too.**