On Being Colombian

As mentioned before in my riveting "Introduction" piece, I was born in Colombia. It's a country in South America that borders both the Atlantic and Pacific. You might know it for its coffee, kidnapping, and cocaine.

I was adopted as a baby and raised by two white Republican parents. My father's from Denmark and his family is still "back in the old country". My mother was born in Brooklyn. She's Italian and Czech and I like calling her a guinea. She just rolls her eyes, which I also enjoy. I digress.

I identify with my family. After all, they raised me--I've known them since I was 3 months old. Why do so many Hispanic people get upset when I say I don't identify with Hispanic culture? They think I've turned my back on my heritage. "Why don't you speak Spanish", they'll ask, half frustrated (it sounds more like "why you no speak-a Spanish"). Hey people, I grew up in small-town upstate NY with people named Chandler, Mercedes, and John-Michael. We were surrounded by trees and deer. Everyone spoke English and played squash. I would have taken sailing lessons, but I can't swim. Get off my back. I do my part. I go to Chipotle. I've never stepped foot inside a Taco Bell (and have no desire to), but I know where to find one. I know that "pollo" means chicken and isn't pronounced "polo" (thank you 3rd grade Spanish). I know who Juan Valdez is. I like Latin girls. I've been to Tijuana. Yes, I know that sounded extremely ignorant.

To each his (or her) own.

I may have been born in Colombia, but I'm Danish and Italian at heart (and maybe a bit Czech too). In all seriousness, I have no problem with Colombia or Colombians, but it's just not a huge part of my identity. Want to take me to a fancy Colombian restaurant? I'm down.

Beyond the Introduction...Why I Hate Blogs

First of all, I hate the word blog. It's stupid. Would you want to be called "blog"? Would you want to be described as "bloggish" or "bloggenly"? Guys, would you ever go up to a girl and tell her you're an amateur blogger or even a professional one? Girls, do you think blogging is sexy?

Secondly, they're boring--reading them and writing them. I yawn and squirm. Some people lead truly extraordinary lives, but they oftentimes don't have time to sit down and type. It's the billions of lame ass clowns like me who have all this free time, yet nothing even remotely interesting to blog about. Again, welcome to my blog.

I could waste my time (and yours) typing out my favorite salad dressing recipe (that no one would bother making) or bore you with family photos including close-up shots of my sister's stupid dogs getting their bellies scratched, but whatever.

But whatever...what a great way to end a thought.

Oil and Vinegar Dressing:

1) Put salad in a bowl or salad dish. Stop complaining, you anus. This is the easy part.
2) Pour in some extra virgin olive oil. I don't know how much--just eyeball it.
3) Throw in some balsamic vinegar. Again, just guess. If you like vinegar, consider adding a lot.
4) Sprinkle salt and pepper on top.
5) Get your basil, oregano, garlic powder, and parsley in the mix. Fresh is best, but if you don't care or don't have it, just use the dry stuff.
6) Mix it. If you're a professional, use a salad mixer. If you're like the rest of us, just use a couple of forks or spoons. Be creative. Whatever.
7) Enjoy.

Seriously, this has got to be boring you.

Go for a walk. With 90% of Americans overweight, getting off your wobbly cottage cheese ass is probably just what the doctor ordered.

Read a book. If you can't read, get a book on tape. There are plenty about adventures you'll never go on and cool people you'll never meet. Buy a magazine and look at the pictures. Don't be a waste of life. Inspired yet?

Make my dressing and pour it on your head. Massage that virgin olive oil into your scalp. Pour it on your dog. Look at all those spices you've wasted. People used to go to war over spices. People have died over spices. You pour yours on your head.

Granted, some blogs are fun to read, but I'd much rather be having sex.

Introduction

Insert crappy intro here.


Bienvenido.


This blog will be about me, cross-dressing (CDing for short) and my femme persona Kylie, and various other things I feel like complaining/talking about.


A little about me

1) I was born in 1982...you do the math.

2) I'm Aquarius. If you believe in all that nonsense...great. I'm a skeptic.

3) I was born in Bogota, Colombia, but was adopted and raised in a WASPy community. I didn't know I wasn't white until I was 10 or so. It devastated me, but I'm getting over it.

4) I try to be honest, but...yep.

5) I'm a pessimist. The glass is ALWAYS half empty.

6) I hate working.

7) I love cross-dressing. It makes people think I'm complex.

8) I have a serious sneaker addiction.

9) I enjoy unemployment...to an extent.

10) I'm kinky.

11) I do not give money to bums.

So there you have it--the ABCs of Kevin. Not your half-empty cup of tea? Fine. You should leave. I'll even play you out.

OK, if you're still here, I'd like to say that I think I'm a pretty friendly and thoughtful person. There's a family video (circa 1985) of me picking flowers for my mom (Bam. I'm thoughtful) and hugging my sister (Bam. I'm friendly). There's also an old video of me picking my nose.