My Quinceanera

Take it from me. You don't ever want to make me cross.

You should see what I do when I'm mad at myself then multiply it by 200 and that is what will be left of your face.

My anger stems from my recent altercation with my Aunt. Mind you, it's very difficult to argue with a woman with a peach mustache named Sonny. Aunt Sonny recently took me out of her will because she thinks I've disowned my "nationality". I told her I didn't need to inherit her $20 bucks and tampon receptacle. I have my own - 20 bucks. What makes it so upsetting is that she was so supportive while I was taking Spanish lessons at the local YMCA. She introduced me to her girlfriends Rosarita and Tiajuana who showed me how normal tri-sexuals can be. Rosarita and Tiajuana are a really interesting couple. They have webbed hands and feet. Lovely people.

The argument began when Aunt Sonny expressed how she felt uncomfortable going to my Quinceanera because I wasn't Mexican or Catholic. I said, "There is no fucking precedence for this!! I'm a cat with a blog, and I spent months knitting my Quinceanera dress!"

Then her lawyer slid through a crack in the wall, and showed me the updated will. I asked about the poor tailoring of his suit and he grimaced. He opened his briefcase and handed her a pen. I didn't flinch because I didn't care. I was worried about not having her seat filled at my Quinceanera. I guess I'l have to hire seat fillers - especially since my Quincenera will air LIVE on Fox at 8 p.m. Eastern 5 p.m. Western. Tuesday Night September 27th. So, Aunt Sonny signed the paperwork and I was absolved from her will - for being Mexican for a day. Thus, with the stroke of her pen we were over with a 15 year friendship.

Weeks later, I wept while touring an Onion Factory in Tokyo, but the thought of my Aunt Sonny never crossed my mind. I was just reminded of it while watching the video of my Quincerera Rehearsal. As they panned across the empty seats I thought of how exciting it would be to see all thoses friendly faces supporting me on my day as a Catholic Girl, and suddenly I grew sad knowing that one seat in the audience would contain a seat filler. I choked on my breath mint, and a real tear grew in the left corner of my pupil. I moistened it into a loose tissue, threw it into the tide and made a single wish - and you know what I wished for?

That my Quinceanera would be better than Gloria Estefan's.


Beckett Boo, esquire!
Cat Blogger Extraordinaire!

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