New Year's Resolutions

I've never been one for New Year's resolutions.  Let's face it, we always start out strong but along the way (a month or two in) we get distracted, life inevitable gets in the way causing us to make concessions or we just plain give up because our goals begin to look to far off and lofty to really reach within a year's time.  We feel bad and berate ourselves and resolve that next year will be different.  And we start again and inevitable seem to fail.  This isn't to say that we don't reach some of our goals but the majority of the time we slip and fall and rather than get up and start again we just get up and walk away. 

On the drive back from visiting my family, I started thinking about what I would do now that I'd graduated with my master's degree.  As I mentioned previously I'm sort of stuck at the moment.  However, I've never been one to stay stuck or to not find something, some project, to keep me occupied while I figure out what my next move is going to be.  So, while driving I thought about the things that fell to the wayside in the past three years.

I realized that in my pursuit of knowledge I've ignored other parts of my life and spirit.  I've become extremely unbalanced and it's starting to take a toll on me not only physically but emotionally and mentally.  So, I decided that despite my dislike of resolution I needed to go ahead and make a few for my life and not just for the year.  I'm sure I'll slip up but I'm hoping that I can, at least, create some semblance of balance in my life again.  Also, I figure once I get my balance back my next educational/professional move will envitebly follow.   

Nothing

People keep asking me what I'm going to do now that I've graduated with my Master's.  When I tell them the truth I see their bright eyes and smile falter and fade into a frown of confusion.  They keep expecting to hear grand plans filled with success not the truth.  Because the truth isn't fill with excitement but cold, hard, bitter reality.  The answer is, "I don't really know." 

Three years ago when I started the Master's program I was sure I was finally on my way to achieving one of my future goals.  I was going to teach at a Junior College.  Then last year I got it into my head to go onto to get my PhD which is a goal I still want to achieve but I don't know how soon that will actually happen, if it will happen at all.

Yes Virginia...

This is one of my favorite pieces.  It's not really a traditional story but does tell a story and I always love reading it.  It reminds me of what Christmas is about and who Santa Claus really is.
  
"Dear Editor--I am eight years old. "Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. "Papa says, 'If you see it in The Sun, it's so.' "Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?
Virginia O'Hanlon 115 W. 95th Street

Virginia, your little friends are wrong.  They have been affected by the scepticism of a sceptical age.  They do not believe except they see.  They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds.  All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's are little.  In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.  He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy.  Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus!  It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias.  There would be no child-like faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence.  We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight.  The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus!  You might as well not believe in fairies!  You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove?  Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus.  The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see.  Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn?  Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there.  Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart.  Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond.  Is it all real?  Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus!  Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever.  A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Dreaming of Dad

I have two types of dreams about my father.  The first is a deep sleep dream that I have until my alarm clock,  with its loud and persistent beeping, yanks me from my sleep.  I gasp for air as my eyes fill with tears and I cry because the dreams seem so real and they're not.  He's gone.

The other type of dreams I have are the ones where I'm in a half dream half alert state I know I'm dreaming but I'm so desperate to remain in my dream that I desperately cling to the images while other parts of my brain pull me into reality.  When I do wake up I'm frustrated because I failed to stay in my fantasy world.

The other night I had the second type dream.  My mother, father and I are were sitting on our old gold couch in my childhood home.  We were just sitting, laughing and talking about nothing important.  I remember having my head on my dad's shoulder and my arms around him.  It was uncharacteristic of us to be that affectionate with each other but in my dream state it was okay.  The images started to fade away and I clung to my father until he disappeared and I reluctantly opened my eyes.

As I get closer to graduation I spend a lot of time thinking about my father.  Christmas--his favorite holiday--is fast approaching and my graduation is a month away.  I miss him and wish he were here to see me walk across the stage wearing my stole, getting my masters.  I know a lot of people will say that he will be there in spirit or looking down on me from heaven above and maybe he will but I can't help but want to say, "What a bunch of pandering bull shit."  I know they're just trying to make me feel better but it really just pisses me off.  Frankly, at moments like these it feels unfair that he had to die before I graduated with my Master, that he won't be around to see me get a PhD or see me published.  And I know that I'm luckier than some.  My father was here for my high school and my first college graduation but is it so bad to be greedy when it comes to having your parents at more special occasions?  I don't think so.

I know being angry won't change any of the facts and the only person suffering is me but I miss my dad and there's no words of comfort that can take up the space he once occupied.

Thesis

First, I apologize once again for not blogging in a few weeks.  Last week, I was sick with a sinus infection.  This week I was preoccupied with my thesis defense to think about writing. 

Yesterday, was my defense.  It wasn't as bad as I imagined.  It was like a writing workshop.  Everyone took turns giving constructive criticism.  Then I was sent outside so they could discuss whether to accept my thesis or not.

After about five minutes I was called back in and told that they'd decided to deem my thesis as satisfactory which means I'm done.  I have to make a few edits and have four copies bound and distributed to the correct departments but that's a matter of correction and money rather than creative writing. 

It feels weird to know that I'm done.  All I have to do now is hope I don't trip and fall off the stage next month when I walk.

I guess I'd better go practice that.

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Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.1

Being Enough

When I was a kid I use to wish that my skin was whiter.  I had watched Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and I was hung up on that one line in the movie, "and skin as white as snow."  To be "white as snow" meant I was a good, beautiful, kind person.  So, I wished and prayed to be whiter.  To help me along in my quest to be whiter, I turned my back on my heritage.  It wasn't too difficult considering that a lot of children and adults treated me and my white mother differently.  My father was Mexican American and my mother was Anglo or white American.  I already looked a lot like my mother but my skin was a shade darker than hers and a shade lighter than my father.  I was in the middle.  In the summer my skin would brown while my mother's would turn lobster red.  I wanted red lobster skin.  I figured if I was lighter then I'd be Snow White and even if the Mexican American children didn't want me someone else would. 

Not All Mexican Food is the Same

So, as I may have mentioned before I work for a university.  I work in the Diversity department.  I've been there for about five years now.  I've learned that although everyone thinks their department on a college campus is the hardest to work for it really isn't, mine is probably the hardest.  It's not the work, or the students, the students are great, even when they're not being great.  It's the preconceived ideas and assumptions that others have our our department.  They like to pigeon hole us, stereotype us as the "Minority" department.  It's true that most of the students who frequent our office are either African American or Latino.  However, if anyone actually took the time to hang out with us and our students they're realize that we are anything but stereo-types.

What bothers me more than being stereo-typed is that people who are suppose to be supporting change and diversity only do it lip service and really don't take it into their hearts and minds.  The word, "diversity" in our school's mission statement, is just that a word.  There's not real meaning to it or any real drive other than a superficial attempt at promoting.  "Look we have a Diversity Department.  That makes us diverse."  Except, that the only diverse people are the staff and students who live and work in our department. 

So, it's a never ending uphill battle.  This brings me to an incident that happened yesterday at a staff lunch.  After telling a few friends I've been trying to let it go but this is one of those things that I can't get out from under my skin as easily as I'd like.

In my office we have a coordinator and an assistant coordinator and me the office assistant.  Our coordinator is African American, the assistant coordinator is Latina and I'm half white and half Latina.  We're pretty diverse ourselves.

Yesterday was a staff lunch for all the departments on our floor at a Mexican restaurant.  I got there on time but the assistant coordinator was on a conference call so she was going to come late.  While there I received a text message from her asking about the menu.  She wanted me to order for her.  I looked around and called down the table to everyone else asking if they still had their menus.  The person next me asked why and I relayed the message.  The person then said, "Tell her it's Mexican food."  I replied, that I realized that but there were a lot of different choice.  The person then said, "Well, it's all the same anyway."  "No, it's not," I said.  "Well, it's all the same ingredients mixed differently.  Just rice and beans," the person said.

My reply to this was simply, "You know if I told her that I'm pretty sure she'd be offended considering she is Mexican American.  I know, at least, my Mexican American side is offended right now."

Everyone gave each other looks, as if asking what they should say or do next which really pissed me off all the more.  The right thing to have said next was, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to be offensive.  You're right."  Instead, they seemed to be waiting for me to say, "just kidding" or laugh and I didn't.

Luckily, our "it's all the same" food came and everyone started eating and talking about.

I realize there are always going to be people who have their prejudice but I would hope that they would be working in fields that are suppose to be supporting and educating students on topics relating to diversity.  True the other departments on my floor aren't charged with the task of educating on diversity but they are suppose to be supportive of our efforts, just as we are suppose to be supportive of them.  After all, our joint task is suppose to be creating strong, accepting leaders who now that not all Mexican food is the same.

Lines from the Night

We ate, we laughed and said some crazy stuff.  Lines from the night....

"Pussy's the same no matter where you're at."

"Did it in a drainage pipe."

 

"With a mirror!"  

 

"Seventh game in the World Series on home base."

"Give me 10 Hail Mary's"

"You got your balls and dick right there."

Question to a guy, "What celebrity would you sleep with?"
Answer, "Leonard Decaprio"
"No, he's a duded.  You need a chick." 
Response, "He is a chick."




















"I think I'm a closet lesbian."

Soul Mates

Lately, I've been thinking about soul mates. 

When I was younger I use to think that there was only one person, who was a perfect fit, for each of us.  And like so many before me I wondered about widows who found love after their spouse died.  Did it mean their first spouse wasn't the one? 

As I got older, got a few relationships/break-ups under my belt, I became bittered and started to believe that there was no such thing as a soul mate. 

Then I met someone, I truly love and loves me back but for various reasons we've just never been able to sustain a real relationships. 

Based on that relationship, I canged my mind and decided that soul mates do exist.  However, just because you're soul mates doesn't mean you can or should live together.

But, today as I was sitting on my bed listening to an audio book and knitting a sock I looked over at my cat, Shadow curled up sleeping a few inches away from me.  As I watched him sleep, I realized that my soul mate is my cat. 

   

  

When I'm sick, he's always there to hoover over me.

We both love watching Harry Potter movies... 

  

 We both love shoes...

                                                                                                

     

  A LOT.

He's always willing to help me clean out my closet.

Don't get me wrong, we've had our problems, you can't live together for twelve years and not have arguements and disagreements.

  

He hates when I go out of town.  I hate that he insists on having, at least, ten "babies" on the bed at all times. 

But no matter how annoyed we get with each other we still love each other unconditionally. 

 

And if that's not a soul mate I don't know what is.

My You Tube Ex...

I have a strange sense of spiritually.  I'm probably completely full of shit, don't know what I'm talking about and will probably change my mind at some point.  However, I believe in a God/Karma/Higher power type entity but I won't go as far as to claim any religion for many different reasons.  I also believe that sometimes we can purposely or inadvertently will certain things to happen.  We generally have some control over it and can stop or change the outcome however, like with everything if we don't stop ourselves then we can lose control and events will ricochet out of our mental/spiritual hands. 

Two weeks ago I went by Walgreen's to pick-up one of my prescriptions.  I wasn't really thinking of anything imparticular as I walked down the center aisle headed towards the exit.  I looked up to see my You Tube Ex (I'm calling him this instead of by his real name to preserve his anonymity).  I did what I always do, I stopped veered off in another direction and practically ran towards the exit, hoping he wouldn't see me go down another aisle. 

Authority to Speak

So, this Thursday I'm going to be reading one of the essays from my thesis.  And I'm dreading it. I'm reading it as part of the Hispanic Heritage Kick-off the organization I advise is hosting.   To be honest, I sort of volunteered to do it.  I told them I'd read if they couldn't find enough people to read.  I guess that translated into, "Great!  Weesha's reading for us."  Don't get me wrong I'm extremely honored that they want me to read at their program and I would walk to the ends of the earth for each of them. 

But, I'm filled with fear.  I know it's not about speaking in public.  I've done lots of presentations for my job and I've conducted  workshops.  I'm pretty comfortable in front of crowds. 

The problem is, talking about abstract ideas, theories and the office is professional stuff, my essays are personal.  And it's frightening to not only let others read but to have to read it to them.  It's like being naked in public.  All your imperfections are out there for others to see and judge.  I know that my friends, colleagues and organization members love me but what about the others who don't know me.  What will they say or think?

My fear is that those strangers will come up to me and say, "What authority do you have to talk about the Latino culture?  What do you know?"  In the past, when I've expressed my concerns to my first non-fiction writing professor, my thesis advisor and my mentor, they've all given me virtually the same answer:  My authority comes from it being my life.  This is true but it's hard to convince yourself that no one has the right to question whether you have the expertise to speak over your life or not. 
However, as frightened as I am about Thursday night I'm going to step up to the podium and read.  I'm going to read because even if I'm afraid to defend my authority, I know it's mine. 

"I want to live my life so that my nights are not full of regrets." -- D.H. Lawrence

Yesterday, my new friend and I were talking about the reasons we do some of the things we do, after our conversation I thought over what I'd shared.

I've been known to willingly make some really stupid decisions in my relationships with people, men in particular.  I know my friends often ask themselves, why does she continue to put herself in these situations.  What I think drives them more insane is that no matter how mentally and emotionally painfully or how threatening to my physical being and lifestyle these situations I still do them, and I usually come out unscathed.  Yes, I have a few bumps and bruises to my psyche but I generally come out with the perspective of, "Well, that was interesting."  I also prolong the relationships or start them back up which I think is even more exasperating.

Yesterday, I reflected, not for the first time, as to why I do these really stupid things.  I came up with some pretty honest realizations.

A Poem by Kim Addonizio

Fuck

There are people who will tell you
that using the word fuck in a poem
indicates a serious lapse
of taste, or imagination,

or both.  It's vulgar,
indcorous, an obscenity
that crashes down like an anvil
falling through a skylight

to land on a restaurant table,
on the white linen, the cut-glass vase of lilacs.
But if you were sitting
over coffee when the metal

Mrs. S

Last Saturday, I went with my best friend Rachel to visit her mother in the hospital.  Her mom had been sick for a few months and had finally been admitted into the hospital.  We visited for about an hour.  While there we found out that her mother might have cancer.  When we left we knew we had a battle ahead of us but we never thought time would get the better of us.

Sunday I received a text message from Rachel telling me that the hospital had called, asking her to come immediately.  A few hours later I got that feeling you get when something has happened.  I checked Facebook, typed in her dad's name and pulled up his profile and found well wishers, expressing their sympathies.  I didn't want to believe it so I called Rachel.  I got her voicemail and I knew without a doubt that the condolences I was reading on Mr. S's Facebook page were accurate.  Mrs. S was gone.

Mrs. S had the most beautiful person I've ever met.  She wasn't a thin, statuesque beauty.  She was short and plump but she had the most beautiful smile and a sparkle to her eyes that rivaled any Hollywood  beauty.  Her faith in God and Jesus never wavered.  Yet, she never pushed her beliefs on anyone.  She was a true Christian.  She loved completely and unconditionally.        

I thank Mrs. S for giving me my best friend Rachel.  And I am lucky to have known Mrs. S and been loved by her. I will always love and miss her.  

Radcliffe, a Photo booth and a Cat

Last night I had a dream about Daniel Radcliffe, a photo booth, and my cat Duchess.  Before you get all pervie it wasn't that kind of dream.

I was standing along with a few other students on the stage of a auditorium type classroom, not unlike those you see in movies but rarely anywhere else in American universities.  So, anyway me and the other other students are standing on the stage area debating, not over the existence of magic but whether the Wizarding World exists.  and I think I was on the, "there's no such thing" side because when Radcliffe showed up he was intent on convincing me otherwise.  Oddly, the only person who seemed flustered to see him was me.  Everyone else seemed to take it as no big deal, "Oh yeah, it's Daniel Radcliffe, he played Harry Potter in the movies."

Jenifer

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about Jenifer.  She started out as one of the students in the organization I advice on my university's campus but with time I've become very close to her.  I see Jenifer as more than just one of my students or a friend.  She's the younger sister I didn't know I wanted or needed.  She is an inspiration to me. 

I wish that when I'd been her age I had been as passionate a person.  When I was twenty-one, I was just going through the motions, taking classes, going to work.  I didn't really know what I wanted or cared about in life, past the person I was dating, the movies I wanted to see and the clothes & shoes I wanted to buy.  Yes, I dreamed about being a writer but I never really had the confidence to push myself forward.  Although, she doubts herself at times,  she is so confident.  Sometimes, she just needs someone to reminder her of what she already knows.     

People Are Not the Colors of the Rainbow

I'm a half Latina, half white, Liberal, living in conservative East Texas and work for an office that promotes and educates on Diversity issues.  These issues include but are not limited to race/color, culture, lifestyle, and gender roles.  So, for the most part I'm use to certain groups treating me like I have an illness or like I'm the enemy and must be destroyed.  I actually don't mind working with these groups.  It's the "I'm not prejuidice" group that I have the most trouble with.

A Poem by D.H. Lawrence

Kisses in the Train
by D.H. Lawrence (1886-1930)

I saw the midlands
Revolve through her hair;
The fields of autumn
Stretching bare,
And sheep on the pasture
Tossed back in a scare.

And still as ever
The world went round,
My mouth on her pulsing
Neck was found,
And my breast to her beating
Breast was bound.

But my heart at the centre
Of all, in a swound
Was still as a pivot,
As all the ground
On its prowling orbit
Shifted round.

And still in my nostrils
The scent of her flesh,
And still my wet mouth
Sought her afresh;
And still one pulse
Through the world did thresh.

And the world all whilring
Around in joy
Like the dance of a dervish
Did destroy
My sense--and my reason
Spun like a toy.

But firm at the centre
My heart was found;
her own to my perfect
Heart-beat bound,
Like a magnet's keeper
Closing the round. 

When Your Ex is on You Tube

So, what do you do when you discover your ex is on YouTube? If you're me you do what I did. 
First, I sat in shock for about five minutes until my boss came in and asked me why I looked so weird. I told him. He watched the video and I pointed out the ex. And bless my boss, he made a face of disbelief. It was the best validation. I could tell he was shocked that I would go out with someone who looked like my ex. I had to laugh and explain that my ex hadn't aged well and at one time he was very nice looking. He's not ugly now but like I said he definitely hasn't aged well.

Next, texted my friend Rachel, who answered, "Umm I guess he's famous...?" which made me laugh and was exactly what I needed.

Third, I told my friend Jenifer who had to look the video up and play, "Let me guess who he is." She guessed on the first try because, "he looks like your type."

Finally, I examined the jolt of pain I experienced yet again. I always have a little jolt of pain and I'm always trying to get away that I never really take the time to figure out why I'm hurting.

Although, it's been ten years now since the break up and I've healed. I still can't speak to him and when I see him I feel this little jolt of pain. It's not debilitating, just a pin prick, a reminder that a relationship I truly valued and a person I deeply loved didn't feel the same way.

I don't know if I'll ever stop feeling the pin prick of pain but I do know that I'm happy where I am. Yes, things aren't ideal but it keeps getting better.

P.S.  Even though I'm sharing this story, I think we still deserves some anonymity, especially him since he doesn't know I've seen the video.  So, I'm sorry, but I won't be sharing the video link or name of the video.

AOL Discovery

Today I had to sign onto my old AOL account to get a password for my old Yahoo account so that I could change information on an entirely different account.  It took about fifteen minutes and five windows to get everything situated correctly. 

It’s fascinating how much intangible crap you can accumulate on the internet.  To date I have 1 AOL account, 2 Yahoo accounts, 1 Gmail account and 1 work account.  Only actively use one yahoo account and the work account.  I keep the other accounts, namely the AOL and old Yahoo account for sentimental value.  They were my first email accounts and I’m attached to them even though I never use them.  I liken it to a woman’s Wedding Gown or a guy’s high school Letterman jacket.  You’ll never wear them again but they’re full of memories.

While I was on my AOL account I decided to check out my old contact list and found the email/screen name for a very special person in my life.  I immediately messaged him about my discovery, how it made me smile and observed that it was a life time ago.  He laughed, was glad I smiled and agreed it was a life time ago. 

We’ve known each other for fourteen years. When I think of the people we were when we first met I shake my head.  We’ve made a lot of mistakes.  We’ve done everything, good and bad, two people can do to each other in a life time and there’s still so much life left ahead of us.  We’ve grown up and we’re finally the people we need, want and should be to each other.  We love each other but at present, circumstances make it impossible for us to be together.  However, like I said we still have so much life left ahead of us, so it would be a shame for us not to have a chance to be together. 

The Reason and The Good Reason

So, I know it's been a week and a half since I last wrote however, I actually have a reason and a good reason.

The Reason

Lately, I haven't been able to think of anything I really want to write about.  Yes, I've had some ideas but I don't feel like dealing with the comments/opinions that will inevitable come when people start to read my liberal thoughts on politics, immigration, education and religion.  I don't mind these opinions and respect everyone's opinions but I've found that some people loose all sense of maturity and politeness on the Internet and say some really rude and nasty things.  I'm just not in the mood to deal with these types of people. 

Also, at the moment I just don't have the time or energy to really spend on topics that are extremely important to me, which leads me to my Good reason.

The Good Reason

Last week, I received the draft of my thesis, complete with comments and edit suggestions, back from my professor.  The hardest part of writing my thesis -- the writing-- is done.  So it's now time to focus on the editing, which is what I'm focusing my time and energy on.  I still intend to write my blog but it might not be as substantial as previous blogs and might be a week to a week and half between blogs.  

A Lesson in Crushes via Daria

I was watching Daria today.  For those who don't know who Daria is, it's a spin-off of MTV's Beavis and Butthead, at least, something good came from that stupid fucking show (can you tell I hate Beavis and Butthead?). 

Anyway, I was watching Daria today and I started thinking about Daria's crush on Trent and after about the third season or so, she stopped crushing on him.  There was never a big, "I'm over him" type episode it just sort of happened.  I remembered reading on some fan site about how people thought it was weird but honestly isn't that how crushes work?  How they're suppose to work? 

I have this friend, who I use to have a massive crush on but time and space have managed to change those feelings for me.  I still  have my moments when I turn green with jealousy but if I really had him I wouldn't want him. 

Crushes only last for as long as it take to really get to know the object of affection, once you know them really well one of maybe two things might happen.  He/she might reciporate your feelings or, like in my case, get to know your crush well enough to know that he/she isn't really right for you.    

In my case, I realized that although we have a lot in common, we have way too many diffences.  The differences are enough for me to know that I might like him, even love him but I'm not in love and never will be in love with him.  Once you realize there's no real love there, crushes kind of fade away. 
So, maybe Daria just realized, at some point when we weren't watching, that even though she liked/loved Trent she wasn't in love with him because they were too different.

OR maybe she just liked Tom enough to act on it...by stealing him from her best friend...er that's probably a different blog. 

*All images used are from fanpop.com

Part Two: A Beverage Review by Josh

So, Josh did an update to his Beverage Review which turned out to be perfect for me because I've been to preoccupied to really think of something to blog.  I promise I will get back on the ball and write my own blog but for the time being here is Part Two of Lap It Up.  

Wolf's Den Presents...

Lap It Up-  A Drink Guide to Thirst Quenching Soda, Sports Drinks, Tea, & Others.

Drink 9 -- Gatorade Series 02-Perform: Lemon Lime
Container: Plastic

Cool and tart but not so much that I'd expect to drink it and hear a little kid say “That'll be 1 dollar”, as if I'm drinking lemonade from a kids stand. Though Lemon Lime is a Gatorade product, to me it does seem a lot like lemonade, just with that “I'm cooling off after a workout.” feel. I've said it before and I'll say it each time, a Gatorade that doesn't leave me wanting to drink a big glass of cold water is the BEST kind of Gatorade. Lemon Lime doesn't make me want that, it makes me want sugar cookies or a PBJ while laying in a hammock. Actually to be very honest it makes me want to go and get another Lemon Lime Gatorade, not bad... not bad at all.

Grade 6 ½

*****************************

Salad

"I was raised in what I consider to be not a melting pot, but a salad bowl.  The onion stayed the onion, the tomato stayed the tomato, the lettuce stayed the lettuce, with maybe a little Russian or Italian dressing.  And it tasted real good.  no one lost their identity, and I thought that was what life was like."

                                                              - Edward James Olmos

When I was a kid studying immigration/Ellis Island the term, “The Great Melting Pot” came up a lot.  I use to be proud to be a part of that theory.  In my mind it meant that all these different races of people came together, mixed and made America a stronger country.

However, as I grow, learn and find myself I realize I’m not so proud of that term anymore.  If you’ve ever seen metals being melted you know that as the metals become hot and liquefy they blend together, gold, silver, copper lose their identity, their unique beauty and become nothing but a molten glob. 

I’m a multiracial person.  My mother was white and my father was Mexican-American.  My mother learned to cook Mexican dishes and my father learned to eat “American” food.  There were a lot of times that they just didn’t understand each other’s cultures but they tried to teach us to be proud of our various heritages.  It was the outside world that really gave us the most trouble. 

Some people who saw our family were confused and others were pissed off.  White people saw my mother as a traitor to her race.  Latinos believed my father though he was too good to marry a woman of his own race. 

When I listen to people talk about making English the official language of the U.S. or that when you come to this country you’re an American and need to act like one I’m bothered.  I believe that people who come to this country are looking for a better life which includes contributing to this country, i.e., working, paying taxes, voting, etc.  However, just because they become American citizens does not mean they should give up family ties and they should not be expected or required to do so. 

I also believe that just because they come to this country it doesn’t mean they should give up their culture/heritage.  Our culture is part of our identity and without it who would we be?  I spent a decade denying my Latina heritage because I thought it was easier to be white but the truth is it wasn’t because I denied part of who I am as a person. 

 

I want to be part of a salad where everything is its own thing but when mixed together it works.  So, I’ll be the lettuce if someone else is the tomatoes.

A Beverage Review by Josh

My friend Josh wrote a great review on the various beverages he's tried and placed it on his Facebook page.  I asked him if he'd let me post it to my blog and he agreed.  Remember these are his thoughts and opinions based on his personal tastes and experiences.  
 
Wolf's Den Presents...

Lap It Up-  A Drink Guide to Thirst Quenching Soda, Sports Drinks, Tea, & Others.

Drink 1 -- Gatorade Series 02-Perform: Fierce Strawberry
Container: Plastic
The “Fierce” part caught my eye early on when I was standing before the large glass doors of one of the local gas stations. Arrays of colors catch you eye when you're looking through the glass and to pick out the pinkest drink you can find doesn't do much for your masculinity, but I do enjoy strawberry's when I get the chance. To be honest it's not the best of the drinks you could try, but there is a sweetness to it, very bland strawberry, but slightly tangy and sharp. All drinks feel fresh and refreshing when they're cold but I did enjoy the time spent writing this and draining the 32fl oz container. The aftertaste isn't anything to write home about but I can see, much with any electrolyte infusing drink, a sense of refreshment after a hard days work. So in conclusion the Gatorade Perform 02 called “Fierce Strawberry”, the pink powerhouse, seems a bit bland but does the job.

Adventures with Arty: The Great Chase

Pear shaped body

This is Arthur, Arty for short.  He was named after King Arthur.  He's far from being a King unless you count King of Trouble.  None of the other cats in the house like him much.  They mostly just tolerate him and wish he'd go away.  He's the youngest and the only adopted cat in the bunch.  My other cats all came from the same mother and father, so they've grown up together.  He's a stout little cat with the the strangest body shape, tiny front end, large back end.  You would think his heft would slow him down but it doesn't.     

And this is DMC floss.  I have a lot of this stuff.  I'm pretty good about keeping it out of the reach of cats.  One of my hobbies is cross stitch.  It's something I picked up from my mother and do when I don't have more important things to do.  The floss is sewn into a design on cross stitch canvas following a pattern.  Normal DMC floss is fairly inexpensive.  You can usually get a skein of the stuff for about 25 to 30 cents each.  The more specialized stuff can run you anywhere from $1.25 to $3 depending on what you're getting. 

A few nights ago while looking for my extra Ipod USB cord I pulled out 3 skeins of DMC floss out of my "catch-all" desk drawer.  One is a regular skein of floss and the other two are white iridescent.  I laid them on my desk, with the idea to put them with the rest of my floss collection but of course, I forgot and never tossed them back in.

Big mistake.

So, last night I'm sitting on my couch watching the GOP debates, actually I was rolling my eyes a lot and refraining from throwing things at the television, but that's another story.

Anyway, I'm sitting on my couch and Arty is sitting on the desk.  I can see him out of the corner of my eye fiddling around, pulling his paw to his mouth, something dropping, him scooting back to pick the object up again and then a flash of buttery yellow, then white drops to the floor and I realize what he's doing.  He's playing with the floss.   

I jump up shouting, "Arty stop that.  Leave those alone."  His eyes spark with delight, it's time to play.  He crouches, I reach for the floss, he lifts the white bundle, clamps his little mouth around it and flies out of the room towards the kitchen.

I chase after him, trying not to laugh as I see his big butt bouncing away from me as I scream, "Arty you little shit!  Come back here!"  He stops at the table, drops the floss as I reach him and looks up at me giving me his most adorable mischievous smile.  "Don't smile at me, you brat," I say.  He keeps his gold eyes on me and swishes his tail a few times before bounding back into the living room to look for more trouble.  

A Quick Review of X-Men First Class ***No Spoilers***

So, I just got back from watching X-Men First Class and I feel like I need to get my thoughts out before I completely over think it which I have a tendency to do.  This is a first draft so please forgive me for typos/grammar issues.  Also, I'm going by memory on the background information so if something is incorrect I apologize and my interpretation of X-Men = Civil Rights Movement is my opinion so if you don't agree I understand. 

Opening a Door to See the Future

A few days ago my friend/student Jenifer was telling me about a conversation she’d had with another friend/student of mine, Andres. He posed the question, “If you could open a door and see what your life would be like in the end, would you?” We talked a little about the question and she said that she wouldn’t because if she knew the outcome then she wouldn’t bother with the struggle/journey and that’s the point of life.

I always get a swell of pride and admiration when Jenifer says something so perceptive. She’s one of the few twenty year olds I know that thinks this deeply on a daily basis. Hell she’s one of the only people I know who thinks this way. Perhaps, part of my pride comes from the fact that I see her as more of a younger sister than I do as a student or friend.


I thought about my answer and decided that it would depend on the circumstances. Barring all scientific/sci-fi theories, if I could open the door and change certain parts of my life that I didn’t like then I’d open the door. However, if I could only look but not touch then I would leave the door shut. For me, I don’t see the point in knowing my future if I can’t change it. Perhaps, there would be some comfort in knowing, for sure, that “everything will be all right” but on some level I already know that, regardless of the outcome, I will be okay.



So, if you could open a door and see what your life would be like in the end, would you?

Poetry

About a year ago I took a poetry writing workshop where I learned a lot about rhythm, line breaks, word choice, etc., and it helped me with my writing but I've never fancied myself a poet.  I admire friends like Chris and professors who can weave so few words together into an intricate tapestry of ideas, places and feelings.  However, it's not a form I'm comfortable working in and I spend too much time second, third and fourth guessing myself.

All that being said, I've decided to go ahead a post a few of my poems for my friends who have heard of them but never gotten to read them and want to read them.  Please keep in mind that because I'm working in a smaller space"Cat's Breath" the line breaks are a little off, unfortunately, there's no way for me to fix it. 

***************************************************

 

I am Gatsby

I long to be Nick

the country mouse to their city mouse

small, fragile pink tail and ears

downy white fur

scent of cedar and pine

 

But I’m not.

I stare out across

green plains of liquid

Promise, hope, renewal

for others but not for me.

I try to hide

behind yellow cars

behind blond tresses

Behind fur, one size too small.

I am large;

thick muddy tail and a flash of scarlet eyes

oily grey wires prickly to the touch

my nails scratch and tear to survive

scent of sweat and desperation linger

a rat in a mouse suit

I balance on precarious fence

between two worlds.

I shrink back from the inky truth,

the dark abyss of murky emptiness.

I step into the false brightness,

the shining crystal fragments of light.

Blush champagne tickles

my nose while

roses of garnet, amethyst violets,

and an opulent pearly daisy

dance across my path, swirl, twirl and catch

sunlight in each creamy petal,

perfume wafts

into my quivering nostrils and

tiptoes over my sensitive tongue.

 

My ears fill with airy laughter;

tantalizing

my desire,

Daisy takes me

in her arms

and we spin.

Swaying while I wait,

knowing,

everything will come

crashing down –

one hunter’s gun,

one bullet shot

in the end.