The word murder is related, in old English, to the French word mordre (bite) in reference to the heavy compensation one must pay for causing an unjust death. A person who commits murder is called a murderer.
By that definition I am a murderer.... I have to admit that at my short age of 17 I have been teh direct responsible for at lest 2 dead... maybe even more if we count all my birthday parties, but I should not be held account for those though, because I did not actually committed the crime, but this 2 death are the only one that I am a direct responsible and I can recall every single detail...
First of all as we all know there are different degrees
First Degree Murder: An intentional killing by means of poison.
That pretty much define my first crime.. I am not quite sure if I was 3 or 4, but I do remember my victim very well, she was white and had a brown freckle, she was very beautiful and tiny, I believe she was about 3 months old... How sad to remember that. She was so full of life and liked to run around and always made people happy. One day as I was in my mother's kitchen without supervision so, I should blame someone else for what happend... but, then again, that will be cowardly. Anyway, I was there at the kitchen and my poor victim was there with me, i could see she was hungry so me and my good heart decided to feed her... I got a chair opened the fridge and got a whole package of hot dogs, the one that are huge. 12 hot dogs in the package. My little victim sat there and I sat next to her, and little by little and hot dog by hot dog i kept feeding her. And just as she kept eating i could see her belly growing and growing just like if she had a balloon inside. It was getting hard and big. I thought it was funny at that time and I could remember that while she was eating the hot dogs I was rubbing her belly. Just when I thought she couldn't eat more she kept eating! She was eating very slow at the end she kept moving her chin and eating and eating... And I kept feeding her... so sad :(
Just when I gave her the last piece of hot dog then my brother and his friends came into the kitchen. They were horrified by the size of her belly. My brother was very worry and call her doctor and then to my parents. Everyone was so worry about her and I couldn't understand why if she was looking so funny why people were so worry. The things is by the time her doctor came it was too late. She had already passed away. Every body was giving me a nasty look, and just then I understood that I had done something really bad. My brother saw me crying and i remember him putting aside his disappointment and hugging me, telling me it was ok and that was his fault for leaving me alone with her... He was so nice to me. When everybody came to the house and found out I was scare but nobody did say anything to me... we took my victim to the backyard and buried her there. Till today she is resting in peace... Her name is there in a little cross.. Pituka, that was her name because we found her behind a store with that name when she was newborn puppy... I will never forget Pituka nor how she die.
My next victim was a little lobster.. I was around 7-9 Can't really remember how old I was. We went to a restaurant were they served 'fresh sea food'. Let me get this straight, I always thought that "fresh sea food" mean that the sea food have never visit the freezer... Little I know what they really mean by "fresh sea food".
We sat at the table, my parents my brother and some of my parents friends and their kids... The chef came with a waitress and they were pulling a big fish tank full of lobsters. I must admit I was disgusted by them because putting aside their flavor their look is horrible, they don't call them the cockroach of the sea for nothing. But there it was, everyone choosing one lobster, I saw that everyone was picking the big ones and all I could think of was of a little lobster that was there. On my mind, and everyone who knows me knows that I have a big imagination and when you are looking at the sky full of clouds I am looking at the same sky full of funny figures, anyway, all I could think it was that little lobster probably would stay there alone and she seems scare to me. So I picked the little lobster. My dad asked me why the small one because if Ilove lobster so much I should have picked a bigger one. I said that the small one was the perfect one for me. Oh, boy.... while we were waiting for the food I remember thinking what I am going to do with that lobster? shall I free her into the ocean? shall i just keep her as a pet? But how could I keep her if I did not even like how they look like let alone about feeding her and taking care of her. But still,I was sure that I did not wanted to leave her there with the bigger lobster walking all over her my heart could not just let her there even if that means I will have to take extra time to take care of her... 20 minutes later our food arrive, boy, if i was hungry! Everyone started to eat the salad and when they brought the lobsters we all dig into our plates. As a good Manchester girl I learned the art of eat a good lobster without getting messy. So I enjoyed my lobster and after i eat my mashed glazed carrots it was time for a good nice desert... a yummy pineapple cheese cake. My dad ask for the check and paid...everyone was getting up their sit and I did too. Suddenly I remember my lobster and I stand next to the waitress and asked her to bring my lobster. She did not understand what I was trying to tell her so my parents came and ask me what was going on... I should have forgot about the lobster but I did not. My dad said 'sweety you just eat the lobster" I was like " yes I know, but I mean I want the little one I choose so I can take her home,I do not want her to stay there with those bigs ones... she will be dead by tomorrow if they keep crawling all over her" I saw everyones faces... My mom bend over a little and was at my eyes high... she said " honey, the little lobster that you choose, was theone they cook for you and you just eat it" At that moment I almost stop breathing I had an asthma attack and could not believe what I have done! I started to cry so bad, they give me my inhalator and put me to sleep. The next day I try my best to not think about it . It took me few years before I could eat lobsters again. Now I grow up and when I think of little lobster with no name I don't feel so bad anymore... but one thing is sure I have never ever eat 'fresh sea food" again.... nor will do it in the future.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Ab imo pectore
The tittle said everything...From the bottom of my heart.
Long long ago in a galaxy far far away... ok, ok , Maybe not so so long ago and definitely not in a galaxy so far away, there was a 3 years old girl playing with her brother under the house beach with some pail and shovel and filling up the pail with sand and then making sure to empty the pail over her brother's head. Yes, that's my earliest memory. I cannot remember anything earlier than that.. but I do remember a lot AFTER that. That house was our house at the capes... cape cod that is. We still own the house and we still own the pails and shovel and every year during the summer we go there and remember how cool it was to play under the house. Although we would love to get under that house and play again we can't! We are too big and we don't fit there anymore. Well that's what my brother said. I think the house shrink.
Wish I could make the time goes back... Those time will never come back again no matter how much we want it. Now that 3 years old is 17 years old woman... woman? ok, teenager.. and that boy is a 30 years old man. We still play at that house when we visit, but now our games include a lot of our friends and the shovel and the pail were substitute by joystick and video consoles with video games. I love to go to the cape the first week, it is so much fun to see our friends from other part of MA or even from other states, their parents still keep houses there so its a habit... or more like a 'rule' to go there during the summer. We love to go sailing and we love picnics at the beach. Usually the girls stay in one side and the boys in other... its has always been like that. Although we are all there together we are separate. Guys like to run around drink, talk about motorbikes and cars and us, the girls, love to talk about fashion, celebrity and gossip about who ever did not came to the picnic that day. Yes, its not nice, but we do gossip a lot about who ever is not there that day and that is the MAIN reason I ALWAYS make sure i go to EVERY single picnic... so I don't become the target of those viperine and malevolents tongues. But when we go into the sea we ALL get all mixed, girls and guys together in different boats. sometimes we hope to see some dolphins or maybe even a shark! But that hasn't happened yet. All we have seen so far are whales. But how can we not get excited about seeing whales you may ask... well, if you think about it,we going there every summer and every summer we see whales. For us is not exciting anymore, we want to see new things and we are tired tired tired of seen those whales and getting wet by them! Let alone the smell that stay on you after you been soak by a whale. Yuck.
My favorite food there are the fry stuff! OMG, they so good and so unhealthy they should be illegal! Every summer I pack up 5 pound by just going to Cape cod! and that is just in 2 weeks, just imagine if I stay there for a month?? It could happen that when I go sailing with my friends I will be in risk, because they might think I am a whale that just hopped in on the boat and throw me out of the deck! So yeah yeah, I need to control my mouth when I am there... but in the other hand is just 2 weeks of guilty pleasure so I may as well enjoy it.
After the first week at the Capes... fun is over, that second week is soooooo boring. We have to spend it as a family. Don't get me wrong I love my family but try living with them alone for a week and you end up wishing you were born to parents in some third world country. We love our parents we love to have dinner with them, we love to get together on Sunday and spend the whole day with them, but we hate to be with them for a whole week! Alone, no friends, no games, no internet, no phone, no tv... no technology.. mean a week of lifeless activities. We have to sit and hear the SAAAAAAAAAAME old stories, 1) how they met, 2) how they almost didn't met, 3) how almost they go separate ways, 4) how they decide to get marry, 5) how did they decide to have kids... then they start to tell us how my brother was born how i got into the family how my brother and I started to walk, started to eat , started to talk... how we start everything! We have to sit and look at photographs that we have seen every year! Boring huh? well it gets even worse! Every night we have to sit by the beach and talk there. Ok, talking is good, I like to talk. So, doesn't sound bad right? WRONG! With my parents everything that you said will be used against you at some points. So when they ask me what are my plans for the future or what is my love life or what food I am going to eat or what I am going to wear or how it was the school I just answer what I know they want to hear, never ever with the truth. That's a trick I learned from my brother... Honesty? oh, please, not while we are on Cape cod! rather we are honest when we are back home, that way if your parents are mad at you, you can just walk away and see them later when they are calm... but while in Cape cod you have to suck it up and take it... no other way. Another thing is the dinner time, ahhhhh nice food, nice atmosphere, nice music, nice conversations... WRONG. My mom and I have to cook because those two weeks we give vacation to the people who work at my house, so no maid that will cook and no maid that will clean after. And since my mom and I are not such an organize cookers we made a huuuuuge mess while cooking something as simple as shrimps, salad, mashed potatoes and sparagus... forget about the desert! I always said when I am at Cape cod I love ice creams from the ice cream shop around the corner. I am NOT an ice cream person, I hardly eat ice cream, but I rather said that than bake a cake or a pie with my mother! Not because it taste bad, but because of the mess we made and have you ever have a nice yummy meal and then when you are done you want to get up and clean? Not me, I like to eat and sit and rest... my mother make me clean with her right after the last bite! and then we can sit and talk...
Knitting, omg, I am 17 and I have knit more than my grandma did in her whole 85 years! That's a lot to say if you think that she loves knitting and she used to make sweaters even for dogs! How can my mother expect me to sit every year to knit for hours ahhhhhh nooooooooo. Atlest I don't have it as worse as my brother. He have to help my dad to paint the same storage house and the garage and the attic every year and then my dad practically forced him to plants tomatoes. hahahah. I love to see my brothers face planting tomatoes, strawberries and such things. Let alone when they have to have that boys out night! My dad take him to the same old bar full of grandpas who my brother have to kiss on their cheeks every year hahaha. Not shake hands no no, its a hug and a kiss. Then listened to music of the 50's and 60's for the rest of the night... Poor thing.
My mother and father always said that we will appreciated this times...one day. We love the company and we love to spend time with our parents, what we don't like is what we spend that time on... so boooooooring. Wish they were open to suggestions but no, they are not. They like traditions... Looking forward for my first week in Heavenly Cape... and knowing that after that week I will be in boredom land...
If I think about it a little bit more I guess Cape Cod is not as bad as putting matching sweaters on Christmas and taking 100 of pictures of our forced smiles next to the Christmas tree to see which one is the best picture so we can hang on the Christmas wall...after the pictures we actually stay with the smile printed on our faces for quite sometime, no, not because we are happy but rather, because after taking 100+ pictures while smiling its hard to get the muscle of your face back to where they belong.....
Long long ago in a galaxy far far away... ok, ok , Maybe not so so long ago and definitely not in a galaxy so far away, there was a 3 years old girl playing with her brother under the house beach with some pail and shovel and filling up the pail with sand and then making sure to empty the pail over her brother's head. Yes, that's my earliest memory. I cannot remember anything earlier than that.. but I do remember a lot AFTER that. That house was our house at the capes... cape cod that is. We still own the house and we still own the pails and shovel and every year during the summer we go there and remember how cool it was to play under the house. Although we would love to get under that house and play again we can't! We are too big and we don't fit there anymore. Well that's what my brother said. I think the house shrink.
Wish I could make the time goes back... Those time will never come back again no matter how much we want it. Now that 3 years old is 17 years old woman... woman? ok, teenager.. and that boy is a 30 years old man. We still play at that house when we visit, but now our games include a lot of our friends and the shovel and the pail were substitute by joystick and video consoles with video games. I love to go to the cape the first week, it is so much fun to see our friends from other part of MA or even from other states, their parents still keep houses there so its a habit... or more like a 'rule' to go there during the summer. We love to go sailing and we love picnics at the beach. Usually the girls stay in one side and the boys in other... its has always been like that. Although we are all there together we are separate. Guys like to run around drink, talk about motorbikes and cars and us, the girls, love to talk about fashion, celebrity and gossip about who ever did not came to the picnic that day. Yes, its not nice, but we do gossip a lot about who ever is not there that day and that is the MAIN reason I ALWAYS make sure i go to EVERY single picnic... so I don't become the target of those viperine and malevolents tongues. But when we go into the sea we ALL get all mixed, girls and guys together in different boats. sometimes we hope to see some dolphins or maybe even a shark! But that hasn't happened yet. All we have seen so far are whales. But how can we not get excited about seeing whales you may ask... well, if you think about it,we going there every summer and every summer we see whales. For us is not exciting anymore, we want to see new things and we are tired tired tired of seen those whales and getting wet by them! Let alone the smell that stay on you after you been soak by a whale. Yuck.
My favorite food there are the fry stuff! OMG, they so good and so unhealthy they should be illegal! Every summer I pack up 5 pound by just going to Cape cod! and that is just in 2 weeks, just imagine if I stay there for a month?? It could happen that when I go sailing with my friends I will be in risk, because they might think I am a whale that just hopped in on the boat and throw me out of the deck! So yeah yeah, I need to control my mouth when I am there... but in the other hand is just 2 weeks of guilty pleasure so I may as well enjoy it.
After the first week at the Capes... fun is over, that second week is soooooo boring. We have to spend it as a family. Don't get me wrong I love my family but try living with them alone for a week and you end up wishing you were born to parents in some third world country. We love our parents we love to have dinner with them, we love to get together on Sunday and spend the whole day with them, but we hate to be with them for a whole week! Alone, no friends, no games, no internet, no phone, no tv... no technology.. mean a week of lifeless activities. We have to sit and hear the SAAAAAAAAAAME old stories, 1) how they met, 2) how they almost didn't met, 3) how almost they go separate ways, 4) how they decide to get marry, 5) how did they decide to have kids... then they start to tell us how my brother was born how i got into the family how my brother and I started to walk, started to eat , started to talk... how we start everything! We have to sit and look at photographs that we have seen every year! Boring huh? well it gets even worse! Every night we have to sit by the beach and talk there. Ok, talking is good, I like to talk. So, doesn't sound bad right? WRONG! With my parents everything that you said will be used against you at some points. So when they ask me what are my plans for the future or what is my love life or what food I am going to eat or what I am going to wear or how it was the school I just answer what I know they want to hear, never ever with the truth. That's a trick I learned from my brother... Honesty? oh, please, not while we are on Cape cod! rather we are honest when we are back home, that way if your parents are mad at you, you can just walk away and see them later when they are calm... but while in Cape cod you have to suck it up and take it... no other way. Another thing is the dinner time, ahhhhh nice food, nice atmosphere, nice music, nice conversations... WRONG. My mom and I have to cook because those two weeks we give vacation to the people who work at my house, so no maid that will cook and no maid that will clean after. And since my mom and I are not such an organize cookers we made a huuuuuge mess while cooking something as simple as shrimps, salad, mashed potatoes and sparagus... forget about the desert! I always said when I am at Cape cod I love ice creams from the ice cream shop around the corner. I am NOT an ice cream person, I hardly eat ice cream, but I rather said that than bake a cake or a pie with my mother! Not because it taste bad, but because of the mess we made and have you ever have a nice yummy meal and then when you are done you want to get up and clean? Not me, I like to eat and sit and rest... my mother make me clean with her right after the last bite! and then we can sit and talk...
Knitting, omg, I am 17 and I have knit more than my grandma did in her whole 85 years! That's a lot to say if you think that she loves knitting and she used to make sweaters even for dogs! How can my mother expect me to sit every year to knit for hours ahhhhhh nooooooooo. Atlest I don't have it as worse as my brother. He have to help my dad to paint the same storage house and the garage and the attic every year and then my dad practically forced him to plants tomatoes. hahahah. I love to see my brothers face planting tomatoes, strawberries and such things. Let alone when they have to have that boys out night! My dad take him to the same old bar full of grandpas who my brother have to kiss on their cheeks every year hahaha. Not shake hands no no, its a hug and a kiss. Then listened to music of the 50's and 60's for the rest of the night... Poor thing.
My mother and father always said that we will appreciated this times...one day. We love the company and we love to spend time with our parents, what we don't like is what we spend that time on... so boooooooring. Wish they were open to suggestions but no, they are not. They like traditions... Looking forward for my first week in Heavenly Cape... and knowing that after that week I will be in boredom land...
If I think about it a little bit more I guess Cape Cod is not as bad as putting matching sweaters on Christmas and taking 100 of pictures of our forced smiles next to the Christmas tree to see which one is the best picture so we can hang on the Christmas wall...after the pictures we actually stay with the smile printed on our faces for quite sometime, no, not because we are happy but rather, because after taking 100+ pictures while smiling its hard to get the muscle of your face back to where they belong.....
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