Cooking Tamales

Over the weekend my main and I went for the gold! We decided to make tamales!

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Last year my Mom gifted me a small vaporera for tamales and we put it to use. (Side note: in searching for pictures for those of you who might want to know what I’m talking about, it seems that this may not even be for tamales, but for like smaller food? Oh well!) See images of my steamer here: google search results. The reason I was given a small one was because it’s just 2 of us and we’re far away from everyone and having something in a smaller version is best. It’s been cold and snowy and since we didn’t attempt this during the regular tamal season we went for it now.

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You cannot have just 1, tho. So eat up!

A long time ago, before I moved to Oregon, I wrote down the recipe for how my mom and tias and grandma make their tamales (puerco or res en chile rojo or mole, pollo en chile verde, and rajas con queso). We decided to go with his mom’s recipe of tamales de puerco en mole. We called her up in the morning to get everything down and it’s so hard to get everything right when these mommas don’t measure anything. It’s always, “un punito de sal” or “una cuchara copeteada”, etc. Regardless, we took to shopping for the ingredients but before heading home we stopped at Jimmy John’s for some sammiches. When we got home we ate and mentally prepared ourselves for what was about to go down. This is a task for a group of people, but obviously we managed.

Overall the experience was pretty good. We cooked  5 lbs of trocitos de puerco, mixed an entire bag of masa, and soaked one bag of corn leaves. Next time we’re adding the whole box of lard to the mix because these tamales need to slide off the leaves and ours didn’t. *sad face*

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Me and the main getting down and dirty with the masa. We made sure to close the blinds.

We also need to be free with the salt – his mom was right, all the salt flavor you think it has goes away while the tamales are cooking. We called his mom about 10 times throughout the entire day to make sure we had this right and that measured. Our wrapping needs work for sure! There are thin ones, really fat ones, too much masa, not enough meat. Our stove is electric – with the coils – and that impacted the cooking time. She gave us an estimate of about an hour but we ended up cooking them for about 3 because we just did, OK? Good thing we had Jimmy John’s in our bellies. We ate like 4 tamales each to “test” them as the cooking was happening. That’s how we knew they needed more time. If I get constipation it’s all my fault.

The next day we called my cousin to show her daughter the snowfall. Grandma was there so we talked IMG_20180218_181007.jpgto her about our experience. We told her the difference in the mole recipes (ours is better. Shh! Don’t tell the main). Ours has so much more heat to the flavor since we use two different chiles: arbol and California vs. only guajillo). We fry our bread and they fry saltine crackers. Theirs has cloves and ginger and raw garlic, we boil the garlic with the chiles and add cumin when blending.

In the picture: sesame seeds, chocolate abuelita, cinnamon, garlic, cloves, sweet pepper, and fresh ginger.

tamalesWe’re thinking of giving it another go this upcoming weekend. This time we’re going for tamales dulces and de res in chile rojo. This time around I’ll see if I can pause and document our progress. Here is the only picture I took (and it was only because I wanted to show my friend what I was up to).

My grandmas asked if there is a Vallarta because she recommended getting the masa prepared to save work and time. Yeah, grandma! No Vallarta in rural Oregon. One day!

Here is another meme just for fun! The main asked me not to eat all the tamales because he wanted to share some with his ladies at work. But, this is me…

sneakytamal

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Book Review: Euphoria by Lily King

This year I set myself a goal to read more. It’s not the first year I do this, but it’s the year of Me. I think I’ve set a challenge three years now and I’ve only met one. PATHETIC. Netflix and Chillin’ is just too good to pass up.

Follow me on GoodReads… you know what? Don’t. I update as I go along, but that’s about it. If I take time to write about a book it will be here and GoodReads is just a tracking tool. But, if you choose to here is my profile information: Monica’s GoodReads.

One of my “things” this year is to read books I’ve had in my library for some time. Euphoria was bought in 2014 and as evidenced by this post, read in 2018. #GOALS. What I like about it is that it has a book club readers guide to discussing the book. I will take a couple of questions and discuss among the voices in my head. There are 13 questions and I’m going to respond to question 1 and question 7. I haven’t read them so it’ll be a surprise for us all…

#1 Set against the lush tropical landscape of 1930s New Guinea, this novel charts British anthropologist Andrew Bankson’s fascination for colleagues Nell Stone and her husband, Fen, a fascination that turns deadly. How far does the setting play a role in shaping events? Is there a sense that the three have created their own small universe on the banks of the Sepik River, far removed from the Western world? If so, by whole rules are they playing?

Oh, boy! First of all, I didn’t even realize it was in the 1930s. OK, seriously. Firstly, I’d like to point out that I really enjoyed the setting and the time of the novel. I think it gives it that sense of so much unknown and mystery and at the same time how far the anthropological sciences have come. Since the novel is based on Bankson’s POV I will write as “he” “him” “his” instead of referring to the author’s pronouns (I’m assuming so don’t @ me) of “she” “her” “hers”.  Secondly, I liked that it was written as a recollection of memories and the novel ends in the “present”. It allows for retrospect on his accounts and experiences and feelings. I enjoyed reading how nostalgic he was and how he saw himself change and seemingly grow when Nell was around him. Thirdly, I read this with a POC lens so there were parts in which I scoffed and even felt disdain toward this trio. Not so much against Bankson, more on Nell and Fen. Some of the interactions were rude, presumptuous, disrespectful – gross! Fen and Nell had “work for reward” systems for the young of the tribe. She had commands and expectations for them and that was very intrusive for me. Bankson observed this of them and felt as if maybe he was doing his job wrong the whole time. Each had their way of approach to yield the results of their personal agendas or thesis or whatever they felt their purpose.

Fen is not my favorite, I don’t even think I like him at all. He embodies that endless thirst for the unknown but in a very destructive, and ultimately deadly way. He’s jealous of Nell’s success and hates that he’s toeing behind her. He is self-righteous and in some instances intolerable. But somehow, he brings out something in each Nell and Bankson’s work, so I guess in some ways his assholeness served to further their convictions and understand what they individually loved about the field and the work. He’s in search of a sacred flute that is believed to be the first writing system among the tribes along the Sepik River. He wants it, guess for what? MONEY! What a surprise. He convinces Xambun, a young should-be-king male that was taken to work as a slave mine worker who returned a changed man, to join him on the expedition to this secret place he mentally recorded the route to. But when they return, Xambun is dead with a perfectly placed gunshot wound to the head. Fen claims they were chased by a rival tribe and that his use of a magic spell to be invisible worked and that’s why he wasn’t targeted (major side-eye).

Bankson is in love with Nell but Nell is married to Fen. Fen knows Bankson has feelings for Nell. Eventually Nell and Bankson bang it out. Bankson is like a balance between Fen and Nell. Nell works and functions by writing, thinking, talking; a true ethnographer. Fen is a doer. He likes being among the tribe, building, experiencing. He is very observant, but he tends to assume reason and custom to fit his narrative and rarely writes anything down. Bankson is a true romantic for the science. He was supposed to be a biologist by family trade, but anthropology stole him. He’s very self-doubting and questions the reason for his being among the tribes and has trouble in knowing exactly what he’s observing, what he should write down, what matters and what doesn’t. There is journal Bankson is given by Nell’s former lover, Helen, in which he gets to read her personal thoughts and feelings outside of her work related writing. In this journal Nell writes that she believes both Fen and her are in love with Bankson for that balance he creates between them. He reads her last entry. She’s going to leave Fen and go to Bankson. Bankson was actually going to meet her in New York when he got the news that she was dead and that Fen quickly did a ceremony in which she ended up in the ocean (yo, what? suspicious as hell!).

The setting is perfect for a man like Fen to turn his passions into a deadly and money driven endeavor. He’s a white man among tribesmen/woman trying to solve the human puzzle of being and sees himself as superior. He can do no wrong because he’s in the right. Toward the end of the novel its revealed/confirmed that he beats on Nell. Bankson of course hates himself for not noticing the red flags. Because Bankson is so in love with Nell and Nell is so used to Fen’s antics, everyone is playing by Fen’s rules. Yes, Fen was upset that they left their last location, but I think, NOW, that it was because Nell needed to get out of that environment. She was ill, sickly, gaunt when Bankson reunited with them. So this leads me to believe that Nell hid their problems really well and because of her love for her work, put up with Fen. Fen does say how they are on her grant money and she’s the reason they are where they are, so to some extent, he has to abide by SOME of her requests – like leaving!

— should I stop here? Has your attention span left this place?

#7 Take your discussion of the previous question a step further by considering whether it is ever possible to truly know another person. Apply your observations to Bankson’s view of Nell and Fen.

Read the response to question 1. LULZ! Question 6 is asking to discuss ways in which Bankson’s attitude toward his work changes as he gets to know Nell and her research methods and to consider his acknowledgement of the limitations of an anthropologists work and to discuss how far it is possible to ever get to know another’s culture; taking into account Bankson’s interest in the objectivity of the observer.

I guess I did all of that in my response to question 1 tee-hee! But I will add… I don’t think it’s ever possible to truly know a person. Can you imagine walking around speaking every thought, opinion, or expressing every feeling or emotion or lack thereof. I believe all of that shapes us in a way and our minds filter all of that and what does come to the surface is that final sift. A few corrections or amendments, but yea I would rather not know someone fully because I wouldn’t want them to know ME fully. There is a beauty in someone’s mystery. To wonder what thoughts they have and then to engage in that moment of discussion is profound – not always, but when it happens you end up knowing someone “at a deeper level”. The problem with that thinking is that we end up making our assumptions of a person. I have so many conversations in my head with other people and it’s all what I THINK they will say, how I THINK they will respond, etc.

Bankson was so lonely. He lost a brother to war and another to suicide. He lost his father too and is left only with his annoying ass mom. Nell and Fen subscribed to the notion that the Sepik territories belonged to Bankson and he didn’t like that. It made him lonely. The fact that so many anthropologists stayed away and deprived him of company because they thought that was HIS area. So when Nell and Fen came along, not only had his previous feelings for Nell surfaced, but both of them brought something out in him. New ways of thinking and approach, a new thirst for his work. He was enamored with both of them and they in some ways, were in love with him.

Do I recommend this book? YAS!

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I Have All These Plans

… But I’m too afraid to take any action.

For the longest time I have been wanting to start a podcast and this is the idea/plan that has been a constant for years. I’ve presented this idea to many and they always ask the same question: what is it going to be about? and what will you call it?

Bih, I don’t know… everything and anything (con Mona) … hmmm… that’s an idea.

I listen to many podcasts but lately I’ve picked up some new ones within the Latinx community. My people are so fucken funny and filled with so much love, passion, and creativity that sometimes – deep down in my gut and in the labyrinth of my self-doubt – I feel that this is what hold me back. What if I am unwelcomed? What if I fail? I know, I KNOW that none of that should matter if it’s what I really want to do.

I came across this gem on my soundcloud profile and maybe this is what my podcast will sound like. If you have some time to listen feel free … Hanging with the BF and MTBF

You know what else I’m afraid of? Asking someone to by my co-host. I live away from family and friends and I’m fully aware about how technology can bring us together, but will whomever I ask be willing to take on co-hosting responsibilities if he/she accepts? I’ve asked the BF but he’s a little shy- very vocal and opinionated in person, but not so much in public and open spaces; which I understand. And I only want one other person, and you know what? It doesn’t even have to be the same one for every episode. I just want them to be consistent. I have a plan, though; for when I do ask. I want to be prepared as much as I possibly can by having a little FAQ and a sample outline. The BF is now out of the running as co-host but I’d like to (and eventually will) ask my MTBF and my baby sis, Lorena. OMG… I wrote that out! Now I have to do it.

What will it be about?

I want the podcast to be about my culture, my family, my friends and experiences. I want it to be about current political and social events that shape our communities and persons. I want it to be about traditions, religion (my lack thereof) and everything in between and around. I want it to be a relaxed open space and eventually I want to have guests- family members, friends, and in the future other podcasters. And like always with a bit of #Spanglish.

How will I brand myself?

That is what I am most unsure of. I don’t have a creative … anything really. I do, however… support latinx artists. I wish I had a separate bank account for all the art that is out there. Alas! I don’t but I am slowly filling up my wall with amazing art and have made a commitment to buy at least one piece of Latinx art a month. Why? Because I want the youth and my people to prosper. I want to be a small part in their success to achieving their goals and dreams. That is what I believe is going to make the entrepreneurship landscape more colorful. But that is not here nor there on my branding. Here is what I love: coffee and tea and right now I am in the coffee stage of my cyclical love for both. So, I started a new IG page that focuses on just that: my love for coffee and tea. And within that page I want to showcase the support I have given to artists so far. And with that… I’m thinking it’ll increase the number of my followers and expose artists to how their work is inspiring little ol’ me. Here is my IG page if you want to follow: monaquieracafe

My other plans:

Buy a camera. My DSLR got stolen during a break-in I had several years ago. I’ve hesitated buying a new one and in reality didn’t see much need for it. But now, I want to be able to grow what I plan on doing with my podcast with good photography and video. I don’t want anything too expensive and I already have one in mind.

I want to take a digital photography class or at least find a good YouTube channel for beginners. The last photography class I took was in my sophomore year of college and it was with film! I never developed any of my photos; they were all reviewed through slide readers.

I’ve also started working with graphic design through some android apps for my monaquierecafe page. I’m still on the free versions of the apps since I’m just getting started. But if I take a class or find some good tutorials I can get better in no-time (said no one ever)! I have some ready-to-go content because I want to be consistent in my posting frequency. I know I’ve un-followed, for whatever reason, accounts that don’t post as often so I want to stay ready. I have to do some research as to why we do that (read: I).

If you have any ideas or advice on anything I’ve written about, help an amiga out.

TFW You Want to Write…

I have this horrible habit of thinking I can remember something without writing it down. The times I do write it down and come across the note in the future, I have no idea what I meant or what I wanted to remember out of it. Maybe I need a class on remembering things (writes remember things online class).

The following is a series of short paragraphs on topics/people/general ideas I want to write about in the near future and I hope that by being a little more detailed I will be able to fully develop a post out of each of them.

MTBF visits me: post a couple of pictures to share the adventures. The excitement leading up the arrival. I wish we did everything we said we’d do. Why didn’t we do everything we said we’d do? Time? Laziness? Money? I found out how to use VENMO. I just don’t understand why if the app is by PayPal, why did I have to create a new account with VENMO and not have the option to sign in through PayPal?

I really want to start my podcast: more an more the Honey Cakes and I are talking about starting a podcast. I want to associate myself with the boom in brown podcasts that is going on right now and take advantage of the fact that there is so much love and support for brown entrepreneurship. He, on the other hand, wants to just “have a podcast” with a theme on “Stories”. I get it, but in that type of podcast I don’t see room for me. He’s a talker and knows a little bit of everything. He can carry a great conversation and I stall all the freakin’ time! He’s a natural conversationalist and I overthink everything way too much that I end up looking like Homer fading into the bushes. And I want us to be on the same podcast, share with listeners our experiences and then have themed episodes like his “stories” and have guests that share and talk about anything and everything.

Can I start a business?: I think the last 50 accounts I started following on IG have been Latinx businesses. Small and awesome shops that range from mugs to pins, t-shirts and hats, stickers and art. Sometimes I even want to invest in a business because what if I don’t have what it takes? I bought a pin making machine but I ran out of steam. Maybe it wasn’t steam, but I just didn’t have the right equipment and I (still) think.. soon I’ll get the right printer, paper, cutter, etc. I have ideas but I also need to learn how to market. WAH! Oh an I thought, what if I learn to sew and make tortilla covers with dope ass dichos. First step with that is to know if I even have the patience to make one.

Been staring at the cursor for 30 seconds and nothing. I guess I didn’t have a lot to remember. Or maybe I just forgot because I didn’t write it down.

#storyofmylife

I’m Almost A Full Adult

The government places the legal adult age of 18. I mean, is that even legal? My apologies for that joke. Pos ya que? I started working at the tender age of 17 doing seasonal gigs. I worked at Six Flags in California, at Things Remembered in Northridge Mall, at a Deli in La Gigante (best coworker ladies), as a TA for second graders, at the Student Store while I was in college, and as a cashier at Home Depot. May 29, 2017 marked my 10 year anniversary at my current gig. I never thought I would be able to commit for this long.

For a long time I thought of myself as being independent but in reality I was only semi-independent. Even though I had a job and was buying my own shit I was never really living off of my own income. When I realized that in my early 20s I felt like I was failing. I don’t know what I was thinking. I had my mom’s help, my sister’s help, my friend’s help. I mean we were all splitting costs at one point or another. I don’t know why I thought that wasn’t enough. What I’m trying to say is that I placed a lot of weight on being one and only. Looking back at it I wish I valued the sharing of goods, space, and those relationships a lot more. But I was young. I wanted the “American” life.

I’ve come to a point in my life where I know independence is good, but damn does it feel better when you have someone to share your wealth. I don’t mean monetary wealth. I’m talking about bonding and spending time and learning and living together. I don’t know why I wanted out of such living arrangements. There is so much we can learn from each other when we’re living together. It can be extended family, a home of friends, multiple family home, etc., but it’s valuable. My Chico Fresco and I talk about this often. And I admit that I used to feel the same way about older children still living with their parents. Grown folks still in a room in their Mami and Papi’s house. Pero, why? What’s that saying that goes something like you get bothered by the people and things that scare you of yourself? of things within yourself? I can’t remember but I hope you catch my drift.

When I moved to Oregon I did it on my own. I took a little bit of money from my retirement, had it offset by a little sign-on bonus and off I went living the life I wanted. I loved being on my own. I can arrange my things how I want, get home and no one to tell me anything, eat what I want, where I want – all those things that a parent told you not to do. The thing is that I can be alone. I don’t feel alone, but I can manage myself. I miss family and BBQs and get-togethers and outings but I also enjoy being in a place friends and family can get away to. My main squeeze moved up here a year ago and it’s been a rollercoaster. I’ve had to readjust some of my ways and accept that my space is now our space. And that’s part of growing up. Like my MTBF says … you can grow old but you don’t have to grow up. For a lot things that makes funny sense, but when it comes to maturity of the mind, and the actions that you take I believe change is warranted because like Epictetus Enchiridion says our ultimate goal is happiness. But how do we achieve happiness? It’s all about controlling how you react to things around you. Who said “be the change you wish to see”? Something like that…

My mentor has taught me so much. The advice and guidance he’s given me has allowed me to view my life through different lenses. I used to want things to happen to me because I guess I grew up kind of spoiled. But at the same time, through his analysis and my own, I realized I was just always afraid. I was filled with so much self-doubt that I never really went for it. He put it to me this way, there are things you can’t control so just let them be (this can be events, people, situations). Then there are things in which you have some control (how you react, what you choose to be involved in, what you can walk away from, what you pursue, etc.). And then there are things that you have full control over (yourself). I wrote about this some time ago when I read the book he recommended about the Stoics. But think about that. Think of the things you have some control over and what you have full control over. This way of thinking has changed my life for the better and for that I’m indebted to him. To some this way of thinking can be obvious, but for me a person that is afraid of stepping in and standing out advice like that is invaluable.

I’m pursing my happiness. It’s not through material things but at the same time material things shape us in a way that sometimes we don’t want them to, but accept. For instance, I just got approved for a home loan (like WHOA… that is so adult, hence the title of my post). The reason I’m getting my home is because I want something that my money pays for that is mine. Not someone else’s home, but mine. I want to be able to leave something for my kid(s) if I ever choose to have any. I want to be able to pay that bitch off and relax when I retire. I want to be able to paint this room blue and that one egg yolk yellow. You feel me?

My point to all of this is, take advantage of not having to be one and only to everything. Invite people in and welcome yourself when you’ve been invited. Accept that family and friends are there to help because they love you and at the end of the day.. it’s our culture. You know all those jokes and memes about Mexicans and their large families? Would you give any of that up? I wouldn’t and right now I’m so happy that my family is growing. I’m elated that my first cousins and sisters have or are popping their babies out. The kicker is it’s up to us to keep that connection going and not lose those relationships.

Here’s another point. Don’t feel guilty when you step away from all of that. We are all expected to grow. And on that same coin… don’t guilt others for not leaving. Sometimes that’s what works. Just don’t overstep, overstay, or not pay. Pay it forward. No one does it alone.

If You’re Reading This It’s Because I’m A Coward

I’m a lazy friend. Plain and simple.

Friendship is a give and take type of relationship. What I give is what I take. I don’t give much so I don’t expect much. My earliest memory of friendship was back in elementary. It’s a bit fuzzy yet vivid on some days. 

I don’t know how others perceive my outer persona but lately I’ve been fixating on it. I find myself telling Pablo again and again of how I (playfully) hate how easy he makes conversation with strangers. He had a full conversation with the fedex guy (or was it the usps guy?). He even got his name. He got the life story of a dude that is twice his age with no hesitation. There are countless examples. I told him he’s like my mother; there is something about them that just attracts easy conversation. Is it his vibe? Is it his lack of fear of what people think? Perhaps it’s his openness to accepting all that is unknown. Whatever it is about him it is what I love the most. His way of being is everything to me. Note to reader: i apparently have a big ego and I don’t take criticism well. But that doesn’t mean i can’t relate nor that I’m not open to new friends. I’m also not really looking for them but damn I want to be approachable. I also let go very easily so if someone wants some type of validation from me he/she probably, most likely, won’t get it. WELP! 

In elementary I felt like an outcast. Wait, outcast is very defining… I was very normal, but always trying to fit in. Just ask my oldest sister. I dont remember really having friends like friend friends. You know, the type you’re always with and the ones (or one) that you told everything to? It never really happened so I was the girl that would play kickball and pachuco with the boys. I played tetherball and volleyball and handball with the class but I wasn’t part of any alliances happening around me. For the record I was an average athlete but I was competitive. 

In middle school I was the lame ass that ran to the fucken nutrition and lunch lines and after I ate I walked around campus. I finally made a friend but it was shortly lived. She left me, that bitch. She left me to be friends with another girl that was as boy crazy as she was. Then I made another friend and she took me in with her little group. It was nice and fun, but I only really connected with the one that took me in. The thing is that I thought I had friends in many circles… the reality was that I only connected in the classroom. I was funny, I made people laugh and I seemed to have something that pulled people in. I realize now that those relationships only lived in a controlled environment. If it required actual energy I wasn’t readily putting it out there. 

In high school I finally felt a part of something. A smart group of girls that shared common interests took me in. But then I found out I wasn’t part of the rituals of secret sharing or the phone calls girlfriends have or the inside jokes. I tried it but in retrospect I only did it out of desperation. Eventually I started hanging out with a different group. The same thing happened with these girls. The same thing happened with me and them. I let it be. I felt sad about it, but I didn’t put any effort in salvaging or maintaining the friendships. I give them credit for continuing to make an effort to include me in things but it isn’t the same when I was putting my part in the mix.

It wasn’t until after high school that I finally met someone that was/is awesome and a great friend. I now consider myself to be low maintenance and I love that with her I don’t feel guilty. I want to do more and have more but looking at my past experiences it seems I either don’t know how or I’m too lazy of a friend. I like how when we reach out to each other it never feels like too much time passed us by. However, I do want something that surpasses that. I’m writing this out because I want accountability on my part. I want to be able to look back at this post and think of how this used to be me. 

I rest easy now that I know it’s not the number of friends but the quality of the relationships that counts. I have to work on the quality of  my friendship, tho. For really, girlfriend. 

My Hair

Sometimes I laugh along with people that seem to think it’s funny that I do not shave my legs or my underarms. I fell like staring at them and asking WHAT THE FUCK IS THE BIG DEAL?

But I get it. I used to be like them (those inferior beings) that bowed to the standards of beauty that have demonized hair on certain parts of the body. HAHA… I laugh at YOU, you lame-ass.

Nah, I’m just fucking with you. But I have come to love myself on another level. I’m fat right now (that’s another blog for another site), and I assure you it has nothing to do with that.

*queue harp music*

It all started when I moved to Oregon… no really, it did. There are some cold ass winters here that my delicate Southern Cali skin barely survived. The first summer I was all about shaving my legs for no other reason than it was the normal thing to do. Then I thought… hey, the BF is not here and I’m cool roaming my house and the streets in my semi-hairy, very prickly legs. Shave, shave, shave! Shave my legs, shave my pits, trim the hoo-ha, and wax them brows. I was all for hair removal. Then that practice started to slow down for various reasons, none of which included laziness.

After some time I started to not mind my hairy legs. And then I stopped shaving my armpits. I fucken ran a half marathon in my hairy legs (which maybe that was part of the reason I had a slower time this year… hmmm… should have worn running pants). Because all of this is fairly new I sometimes sit and stare at my legs and touch my hairy pits like… who said this was gross? How come hairy legs and pits are not shamed on men? Why do women or people that want to shave in general, that see it as a chore continue to do it? Okay, okay. The  “I don’t shave for you I shave because I want to” type people can shut up. I was one of you. Then I started looking deeper into this practice and realized I was doing it because I didn’t want people to tell me I was hairy. Fuck those people. I’m having as good a time as you and I don’t have to worry about the last time I shaved.

Laugh it up. Continue to think it’s nasty and gross. You’re GROSS! You shave and tap that razor on your bathtub rim and stare at the nasty blob of hair. Continue to shame yourself every other day and remove that hair from your pits. HAHAHHA… okay, that was rough. I’m fucking with you, again. All I ask is that you leave people, such as myself, be… HAIRY! *insert boom sound*