You see it all started about 25 years ago. When I gave up the party. I grew up. I settled down. I buckled up. I rode in my first rodeo for the last time. I fell in love. I met someone who completes me. I met him on a blind date. It was 1990 and Prince was still the artist known as Prince. May he RIP.
My blind date was 29 years young. I was 30ish39. I can’t remember how old we were but we were hot still. We’re still hot. I’m hot. He’s hot. We’re hot, ok?
My sister became an angel about 1989. Her daughter, my niece, the angel Victoria, introduced me to my husband. It was predestine in the stars. Her husband worked with my blind date cleaning windows on high rises in Denver Metro.
My Vance, as my deaf father called him, was so respectful. Vince was handsome, yes, but didn’t know it. Still doesn’t know it. But he is trust me. I have to fight off women all of the time from stealing him. I just say to them these three little letters. “OCD.” He’s a handful and then some, but he works three jobs, so I can stay home and work on my writing. Yes, I run the household, the finances, the family, blah blah blah, but he works hard for the money, so hard for it honey. Remember we met in the 90’s.
So what is my point? I forgot. What were we talking about? Oh. Yes, love. In my writing I create elaborate romantic scenes where my characters dance to Culture Club, Prince, Isaac Hayes, Ruben Blades, Sade. They disco, salsa, tango, dirty dance, bump and grind to music on the dance floor, any floor, anywhere. The sex is only in their imaginations. Their daydreams, their wet dreams; because LA and Tony Tong are not doing the nasty. Not with each other anyway, except for in their dreams. She has nyctophilia. Prefers night to day. Night the cover of sinners. LA investigates under the dark cover of night.
I want to write something like the 70’s TV show, Moonlighting. Or the 90’s show, Northern Exposure. I want the idea of sex to be lingering in the atmosphere ready to burst at any time. I want the sexual tension between these two main characters, the murder suspect and the Private Investigator, to be filled with desire and hot thoughts. I want the two of them to dream about each other every night and in their dreams to dance and make love, and laugh, and play, and laugh. I want them to be the perfect ideal couple. But the two opposites. One is brave one is a pussy.
The female character defends the male character. She is strong, tough, smart.
He is sexy. He is weak. He is not a woman. He loves a woman incapable of love.
She is a celibate Chicana. An educated Chicana. And a Chicana Woman. Lethal combination.
So what does this have to do with my 25 year old relationship with my husband? Well, he is my second husband. I am his second wife. So I guess when we were younger we were both married to other people and might never have met. But devine intervention blew into town and swept us both off our feet onto our asses.
My mom and dad had a special love. They were each other’s sweethearts. They met when my mom was a little girl and her older brother brought home his bestfriend, Julian Aragon. She didn’t know that one day she would be Mrs. Julian Aragon. They were also each other’s second marriage. I’ll tell you that love story some day. If you ask nice.
Well, I’m only happy when I’m writing so I’m going to say adios. I’ll keep you posted on the progress of my murder mystery comedy love story. If you ask nice.