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

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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.

The Ultimate Mexican Party

Identity as defined by the Oxford dictionary is: the fact of being who or what a person or thing is.

This post is brought to you by inspiration born from listening to episode 23: Chamoy Fountain of Larinos Who Lunch, by the way. Continue…

Note to future self: at the wedding have a Chamoy fountain. No me importa lo que diga la gente. 

Every so often my bad hombre and I talk about having the party of the century here in Oregon. I know for sure I want a Banda so if you know of any traveling bandas for hire let me know. Drop me a line in the comments. We’re going to serve carnitas, birria and tacos with all the fixings. And for the morning after we’re going to have menudo because we know that party is going to be fire. FIERRO! 

Most of the conversation you can imagine us speaking as if we’re already there, as if we just lived that experience yesterday. We’re full of nostalgia for what we don’t have anymore, or at least for what we don’t live day in and day out. I miss that. He misses that. The last time we both visited home we didn’t spend one cent on food. Every family we visited fed us. Estábamos como marranos.  

I’ve told a couple of coworkers about the ultimate Mexican party and I’m excited they’re excited. I work with a white majority and I’ve made a couple of great relationships. Mi hombre has made some ok connections and we both like to say we’re inviting every white person we know.They’re going to have front row seats to the mariachi and the Banda that’s gonna play until 3am.  

Ideally this party is in July (22nd because it’s my birthday) and on this year because I’ll be turning 30! Treintona y con picardia. This party will make America greater! 

Writing Out My Dream(s)

Lucid [ˈlo͞osəd] Adjective. 1. Expressed clearly; easy to understand. 2. Literary: bright or luminous

Dream [drēm] Noun. 1. a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person’s mind during sleep. Verb. 1. experience dreams during sleep.

Lucid Dream – any dream during which the dreamer is aware that they are dreaming. During lucid dreaming, the dreamer may allegedly be able to exert some degree of control over the dream characters, narrative, and environment.

Every once in a while I experience a lucid dream. I don’t know why, but they are always fun to tell and remember. One of my most recent lucid dreams has revealed and mirrored a lot of what I’ve been going through. Think of it as … part of my continuing metamorphosis. I don’t really want to write about the last dream I had but more about the dream I had in which my Nina was dying. I’ll list the characters in my dream.

  • Nina: my grandma, mi abuelita that doesn’t like to be called Abuela or Abuelita. She’s always said that name was her mom, Abuelita Goya. I spent every summer, weekend, long weekend, etc. with her and learning from her. She’s the one that gave quince minutos mas de dormir three times making it 45 additional minutes. The one that would wake me up with breakfast and the one I would take her cafecito to in her mug. I remember pouring the coffee and then taking it to her and she’d be like: pa’la otra me llenas la taza hasta arriba y caminas mas despacio.
  • Mami: my mom. Mother of 4 girls. She’s selfless and unselfish when it comes to caring for Nina and her girls.
  • Sandy: my oldest sister. The one that can make me laugh and the one I can share the dumbest things with. The first one of my sisters to become a mom and the one that doubtlessly underestimates her hard work as a momma to my two wonderful nieces.
  • Martha: the oldest female cousin, second oldest of all my grandmas 30+ nietos.

This dream was colorful and full of my Nina’s scent- you know that old abuela smell that is unmistakably your grandma’s smell? Yep, that one. Well in this dream I was taking my Nina to the store and on our way back she asks me to take her to the hospital. A bit odd, but I thought that no matter where I go with my Nina I know it’s special and she’s always with a purpose. She ends up checking herself in and in her hospital room I’m sitting crossed legged on her bed. She begins to tell me that she’s known for a while that she’s going to depart this earth and this life and that she’s OK with it. Pero, que le tengo que traer unas cuantas cocitas de la casa. I’m looking at her and noticing the details in that damned ugly green beanie she likes to wear and asking myself why the hell she’s so calm? Tears start rolling out of my eyes and I keep wiping them away telling myself that if she’s OK with this I should too and I should get myself together for her.

When I talk to the doctor she’s explaining everything she’s already explained to my grandma and I keep telling myself to focus because more than likely I’ll be the one to have to tell all of this my Mami. Me dice que hace tiempo noto un tumor y que aun no maligno, es causante de muchos sintomas que han afectado la salud en general. I’m standing there and I look over my grandma and she’s just chillin’ on the bed knitting and whistling softly. The doctor’s voice fades away and here comes my Mami rushing with a look of confusion and desperation. She holds it together as I tell her what the doctor just told me. And even though she wants to talk to my Nina I tell her we have to go; we need to get some stuff from the house to bring to her. She acquiesces and we  drive to my Nina’s house.

The drive was silent. And unlike other dreams, I’m able to move in real time; there is no slowing of movements, no blurry or fuzziness of anything and I’m following traffic signals and look both ways before turning the corner. When we arrive at the house I tell my mom what my grandma wanted us t get and she begins searching for it. The whole time I stand by the doorway observing my mom shuffling through drawers, clothes, and papers. She looks over at my and gives me that look, the are-you-serious-this-is-happening look of sadness. I smirk at her and shrug my shoulders. Defeated by her thoughts she slumps on the edge of the bed and begins to cry slowly covering her face in shame. I walk over to her and tell her it’s going to be OK. I bend down to hug her and clearly, without any doubt she says, “I hate this, Mona. My mom can’t die.” We’re hugging and her chin rests on my head as my arms are wrapped around her waist. Then I posture up and hold her face and tell her that it’s out of our control. That’s when she hugs me, tightly (I felt it, in my body as I slept and knowing this felt so weird), and she begins to sob. Now it’s me resting my head on hers and softly petting her head as I, too cry, silently. She asks quietly: what am I going to do with my days, Mona? Que voy hacer ahora? Mona, what am I going to do with my days?

At that moment Sandy walks in laughing with Martha. Unknowing as to why we were hugging and crying Martha politely steps outside the room and Sandy jumps on the bed in an attempt to lighten up the situation. I tell her that Nina is dying and that we have to be OK with it because she’s okay with it. She starts to cry too, but with an understanding that we have to now look out for our Mami because she’s going to fall apart without Nina. #end

What woke me up was my own sobbing and the feeling of my body reacting. The tears were flowing, I tell you. I look at the time and it’s 8:24am. 24 minutes after I’m already supposed to be at work. I immediately call my timekeeper, still crying. Then I call my boss, still crying telling him that I’ll be in as soon as I can. He asks me if I’m okay and I tell him that I had an incredibly realistic dream about my family. He tells me that I should take my time, but most importantly, am I okay? I assure him that I am and that I’ll see him in a bit.

In a deeper analysis of this dream my boss and I have determined that I have taken an archetype role of wise old woman. The grandmother typically represents the sage, wisdom, etc. I became the mother to my mother. Literally in my dream we switched rolls. And I explained to him what the death of a grandmother means in Dream World: the death of an old self [read: my old self] and the birth of a new self. It’s a telling of how I have come to take control of the things I can and affirm the decisions that come from that control. To be OK with those decisions… isn’t it all crazy? I mean… the change that people go through is not overnight. And I am proof of that. It’s been months that I have been struggling with defining me, and who I am, and wearing the different masks but all in play with my true self and leaving any false selfs in the past. I am maturing in front of my own eyes.

My Nina means so much to me. When I face tough decisions I go to her. I ask her what I should do and she never speaks in terms of finiteness but in terms of not doubting your gut. She’s asked me before… y que te dice to mente? And when I tell her and she usually responds with: entonces no es mal. Si es algo que tu quieres hacer tu sabes lo bueno de esa decicion. Mira, tu sabes que aqui estamos para ti si no te va bien. I don’t know why but I love that as she continues her advice she keeps knitting. She never stops only when I lean in to hug her.

Fork in the Road

fork-in-the-road2I’m standing at the tip of the road trying to figure out which path to take. Both roads have a certain predictability to them but I would say an equal amount of uncertainty as well. I keep saying I will do a pros and cons list but I haven’t because I’m afraid. I’m not even sure what I’m afraid of, but it’s been the reason I have delayed this exercise. Because the probability of me actually doing this is very unlikely I will just write it out here in a very informal manner.

Situation: I submitted my application to go back home without being certain I was ready to actually move back to LA. I have a second interview this evening and the likelihood of me getting the job offer is HIGH!

Self: Why would you do that if you were not 100% sure that you were ready to make the decision to move back?

Me: Well, I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to move back when the chance presented itself. I thought that the process would be longer and I didn’t think I would be so hesitant. Maybe I should tank this second interview and then … end to worry! But what about when I’m actually ready (the way life works no opportunity will be available). *shakes fists to the heavens*

Who/what has weight/impact on my decision? My boyfriend and our long distance relationship. My mom. The fact that I care about what I’m doing where I actually am. That I still feel I haven’t done everything – or close to half the things – I thought I’d do while away from my home city and family. That being where I am feels right. But I miss being around my family; I feel I’m missing out on them.

What if I go:

What if I stay:

What does this mean?

Fears:

To be continued …

Té de hierbabuena

In other words – spearmint tea.

Growing up I spent most of my summers and weekends with my grandma. I don’t call her abuela, or abuelita, or mamá. I call her Nina; we all call her Nina.

I’ve always had a weak stomach and problems with my breathing (I was later diagnosed with asthma). She always knew what to give me. She would give me aceite de oliva, rubbed my tummy, and had me drink teas- in particular te de hierbabuena. I can honestly say that my love for tea grew from her. Even today when I tell her I’m not feeling well she tells me: tómate un tecito.

It had been a long time since I’ve had fresh tea. Most of the tea I drink now is loose leaf (dried), or from tea bags. I hadn’t really thought of the differences until the other night.

I bought a whole bunch of limes and lemons and some fresh mint leaves to make cleansing water in efforts to kick-start my way back into eating healthy and regain focus on my fitness. That night, after preparing my water I couldn’t sleep. I thought, I’ll have a tea. As I was putting the water in the pot I remembered the mint leaves I had and decided for the fresh route.

I placed the mint leaves in the hot water in my cup and the moment the aroma reached my nose I transported to my childhood. I couldn’t believe the sense of nostalgia that took over me. And once I took the first sip, I smiled and closed my eyes. I saw myself sitting with my Nina outside and enjoying the cup of tea, talking about her birds and plants, and the plans for the day. The taste of the mint and the warmness of the cup filled me joy.

Everything about that moment was beautiful.

I have been wanting to start an herb garden and I think it’s what I will start next weekend. I’m going to give her a call and get her Herb Garden 101 tips.

Dad Is Fat by Jim Gaffigan – Book Review 

  

If I hadn’t read a couple of reviews on this book I might have started this post a bit differently. The first reviewer said she enjoyed it and thought it was funny. The second reviewer, who I believe robbed me a little of the magic, said the chapters felt as if they were short two minute bits of his stand-up. DON’T. READ. THE REVIEWS.


The truth is that they are bits. They’re not bad but they are clean comedy. He admits and owns his “clean comedy” and I respect that; it works for him. Jim Gaffigan talks about the struggle and the joy that is parenthood. He speaks on its takeover and it’s embrace. 

I appreciate his opening chapter because it truly sets the stage on the notion that he doesn’t consider himself an expert and how in parenthood there is no real way of doing it right. He and his wife, Jeannie, are raising five kids in a metropolitan city in a walk-up apartment building- somewhere in New York, I can’t remember if it’s Manhattan. 

He brings up interesting points on etiquette regarding pregnancy questions and how much of an anomaly it is to have such a large family. He calls it, “Five kids, Catholic.” As if the Catholic part absolves  them of any sexual judgement. He talks on how friends have been distanced by their large family and how much sleep he has lost. He praises his wife, which is always nice to read.

Reading this book reminds me of all the things my sister tells me she wouldn’t trade for not having her two baby girls. It also reaminds me of the feelings my mom has said her daughters bring her. Pretty much, it reminds me of anything any parent answers naive, unaware, childless individuals. These responses include: how awesome it was to see his first child be born; how he, lover of sleep, has been able to accept their breakup for his children. He goes over how he copes with the unforeseen events of dad-hood in the playground, at restaurants, in the subway, and in his cramped apartment. 

The people I would recommend this book to is the parent that is adiment on being “text book”. There are events that are completely out of the parents control and you  just have to make due. For example, one day my sister and I were on our  way to the store with my then three year old niece. All of a sudden her tummy wasn’t feeling well, and she chunked.bsrk Barf everywhere, no extra  clothes, no napkins or wipes in the car. We got the kid naked and clean with whatever extra dry clothes there was. A quick detour to a department store and done. I see the struggle  of the crying two year old and I also see the joy of seeing another human being grow and mature and all of the laughs they create. For Jim Gaffigan… They create endless material.