Poison and Hope

In a short story I wrote, I called cancer - a poison that took members of my family till their bodies finally weakened and collapsed. I remember my grandma Julia passing away - the way her body withered away, growing weaker and weaker. I was only four years old when God lifted her up to Heaven, but the images are still vivid in my mind. I hated that word, didn't dare to whisper it. I knew what that word meant: death. That's what I associated cancer with, after seeing it, grab and weaken - merciless. We never forget our first experiences; they are forever branded on our memory. We can change our beliefs though.

In 2001, Mama was ill. My senior year in high school. I was busy, as my life as always been busy. I was trying to get into college, trying to find scholarships, and trying my best to be there for her. Hold her hand as her body felt cold and warm with fever. The doctors kept saying that word over and over. "We think she has cancer, maybe leukemia." There it was that deadly word and there it came: determination and refusal to believe it. NO! She does not have cancer. Stop lying you stupid doctors. You don't know my mama; she's a fighter. The pain and distress I experienced during that Fall season. The leaves rustled and changed colors as Mama stayed in the hospital, not growing stronger, enduring more and more tests that only made her feel sicker. The last test would tell us the answer we dreaded. "One more test and we'll know for sure." The oncologist said in his thick accent. I squeezed her hand, standing there - waiting and praying. Praying till my head ached and my ears yearned to hear. The results came back: NO CANCER. Relief washed over me as I thanked God. A warm refreshing shower of relief.

Cancer visited my family again. 2003. My bro. The sibling who I am closest to. He is the oldest and I am the youngest. We have a strong bond. I stood there in the waiting room, shaking with coldness and letting the tears stream down my cheeks. Everyone was crying; I was slipping into shock with the warm tears moving and no other part of my body moving. Just standing there, hearing the doctor's words echo. The chemo treatments began; Mama grew angry @ God, screaming "how could you let this happen to mijo?" I held myself together, praying and reaching for God. He was there, comforting us. Although we did not always "feel" God there, I knew He was there, presenting to us a trial in life. As life is full of trials and tribulations. Cancer breathed another word into my mind: LIFE. Hold onto LIFE. Don't weaken; Don't stop living. Determination. PRAY. Prayer and Patience as I repeat to myself over and over, convincing myself to find the comfort in prayer. After the trial of Cancer's tug on my bro, he entered remission after about a year and half. Wanting to preach @ church, dedicating his life to our Lord Jesus Christ. There are miracles, we believed.

I saw cancer again today, this evening. I should have been more prepared. I knew my favorite uncle had been having cancer treatments; I should've remembered he had lost all his hair. I was not prepared when he opened the front door. Good thing I had my big sunglasses on because I did not want him to see the big heavy tears that filled my eyes. I gave him a hug with an extra squeeze. We talked and visited and he's still the same favorite uncle of mine. Bachelor. Muscular and in shape. I ignored the jaundice coloring of his skin and the absent hair on his eyebrows and head. I swallowed my tears and continued talking to him. He kept asking questions; that's my Uncle Angel - forever full of questions. He told me how proud he was of me, reminding me that I'm the role model for his fifteen year old daughter. He left to go run errands and I stayed inside his house, straightening up -adding a Woman's Touch as my mama would say. I washed the dishes that cluttered the counter tops. I wiped the table till it shone and swept the floor. I stopped at the refrigerator, recognzing all the healthy foods. Bowls of fruit. Gatorade. Wheat bread. Low fat yogurt. Quite the healthy eater, Uncle Angel has always been. I looked at the stainless steel refrigerator again and saw Grandma Julia's photo smiling back. It hit me again - how cancer had taken her from me, leaving me with little memories of her. I blinked away tears. I remembered her song, how she would sing to me. Dedicated Catholic she was, I remember her singing in church with Grandpa, lifting her hands to praise God. I prayed then. For my Uncle Angel. I prayed and prayed. I wanted to cry, release. I looked at my watch and realized I had seven minutes to get to class...........

The thoughts stayed in my mind. We talked in class, discussed Greek philosophy - one of my favorite topics. I was fine until we started talking about virtue, soul, and death. I got distracted. It was so hard for me to concentrate, smile, or giggle at the professor's jokes. I started to think again about my tio. I promised to stay in touch. I promised myself to pray. I promise to be there for him. I remember miracles; I remember Hope with her gentle touch...

Everyone around me tells me that I'm so strong; I manage to keep a smile, despite the stress in my life. Just yesterday a co-worker patted my hand after I'd talked about some frustrations and told me that she admired how well I was holding up. I thanked her, but inside thanked God for granting me the strength to continue. I've had drama lately. Not just the hurricane, but other issues like my worrying for a special friend, interior emotions. When I don't blog for a few days, that's why. I do not like to focus on the negative things in life. I don't even like to mention them in real life.

Life's too short. I've realized though that Life's not a rose garden. Mama taught me that. There are the good and bad things to record. I wanted to talk to someone tonight. Distract my mind. Release my thoughts. Cry some. Just talk. I pressed send to nearly every contact in my contact list on my cellie and no answer. I have trouble admiting this, but there are times that I actually NEED to talk to someone. Actually talk instead of being the patient listening ear. I have my share of talking - don't get me wrong. But I am talking about release - this is what I'm feeling and it doesn't feel good, which I don't normally do. I scrolled down my contacts, repeatedly hitting send. The network was messing up, kept getting silence on the other end. Not exactly what I wanted to hear. Finally, my bro returned my call. He cheered me up a little with his sarcasm; I didn't want to mention I was worried about my tio. I could tell my bro was tired afer a minute or two so I pressed end after bidding a quick good-bye.

Here is somewhere to release, someone may not listen, but someone will read...

There are those times that a laugh escapes my mouth
because my middle name is Joy - I'm supposed to be bright ...
but There are also those times that a tears trickles down my cheek.

We Survived Rita But..I'm Still Worrying...

All My Fellow Bloggers:

I'm BACK! Thankful and extremely grateful that I'm back in the office, working. Starting my week off, here getting back on schedule. Y'all know the usual - my 3 jobs - work, school (UHV part-time job), and volunteer work. I have a busy week here. Last week, was CRAZY. I was worried, scared, a total twisted mixture of emotions. I've never been through a hurricane, and when they kept saying she was going to hit, right where I live, nombre, I about lost it.

Took that little vacation because of Rita, but I wouldn't call it a vacation because it was far from it. At least we didn't have 12 hours of traffic like the evacuees in Houston; we were only in traffic for 6 1/2 hours close to 7, trying to hunt down hotels. Finally, we ended up just west of Corpus - further inland. The hotel stay was horrible; the bed felt like plywood. There were drunk people outside, partying like the hurricane is something to celebrate! Playing music full blast, could hardly sleep. THEN, on Thursday night as I watching the news, a sick feeling entering my stomach; I started to worry about R. He works on oil rigs and ships out in the Gulf; I know he was out there working early last week b/c he called me and told me. He txts me early Thursday morning, telling me to evacuate. HE was worried about me! Then, Thursday night as I am watching winds and rain destroy an oil rig in the Gulf...tears are running down my face. I'm tense and worried, talking to a few of my friends through txt messaging, but still worrying. I took my eyes away from the news and all that drama and watched a movie.

I watched some great movies during the flee from Rita; I read some of my friendship/romance story about R and I. I wrote 1500 words in 30 minutes. They just came out of my fingers into the keys of my laptop, fast and quick. I found some therapy in writing as I normally do. Added a whole another scene to that great novel I am gonna publish some day.

I am still worrying a bit about R. I care about him so much. I love him in that unconditional - I don't care how you are - I love you just the same - way. The way I love all my dear friends with their sarcasm, criticism, and short tempers. Despite all the imperfections, I love him. That's how great my love is for him. I've prayed, reminding myself of "prayer and patience." Wondering at the same time where mine was as I drove myself insane with worry.

It would be a lie to say that I am a LOT better now because I'm not. I've called R's cell phone, and all I get is the voicemail. I've calmed my nerves; I am no longer shaking with anxiety.

I'm thankful and grateful that our home is safe, hardly any damage at all; at the same time, I feel bad for the people who have lost their homes, etc. Those people in Louisiana.

I'm BACK; I'm gonna slip back into my routine of work and school and a little fun in between......

Friends - U Gotta Love 'Em

A little humor:

Shall I lighten my blog up some more? W/ this FABulous pic of my best friend Abe http://metamorphosis112.blogspot.com and I. Actually, I have several best friends but this one right here - loyal, I spend the most time with him. My dancing partner. My listening ear. My humor. My honest opinion. My movie friend. Shall I continue? Ok our friendship defines friendship.

Today something funny happened..well I think it's funny. Abe joined us with LEAD; we're required to wear dress pants - the guys usu. wear Dockers and polo type shirts. That's our uniform. I don't agree with it either because those polo shirts sure are hott here in Texas! Abe is outspoken, funny, and sarcastic. I call him a "smart ass." We love each other - for real! Alright, he's whining, saying he's gonna cut the sleeves off his polo shirt because it's too damn hott! I'm cracking up laughing. Our boss said as long as there is a collar so hey I don't think it would look so bad w/o sleeves. Yeah rrrrrrrrrrrgiht! That would really mess up our "professional image." The polo shirts are navy so the darker color attracts more heat. Oh well, that's our uniform.

To make matters worse, Abe does not like to dress up much. Shoot, he'll throw on his pinstripe dress pants, con chanclas (flip flops) and a muslce shirt, and look pretty good! But, dressing professional - not Abe - not yet. Alright, he hardly has any dress pants so hay vamos a la Mall. (there we go to the Mall) We go to Old Navy to find him some pants; I end up wandering off by myself to look for some cute clothes. I grab some nice silk tops - super soft. Some sashes - I'm gonna wear one of those blue and gray sashes that looks like a tie around my waist when I work w/ LEAD
so I can have a little style. I get a cute pink and black totebag for school. Finally, Abe and I meet up and he has nada (nothing). I'm asking him, "ok where's ur pants?" He says, "they dont have any in my size :(." He's a size 30 by 34. They're all too short, and I'm not about to have my best friend, wearing high water pants like he's ready for the flood. So I leave w/ a bag full of clothes and he leaves with nothing.

Hay, I felt bad for him. We're hurrying through the Mall, because knowing me I'm running late. He "accidentally" bumps into my foot w/ the heel of his shoe. Ouchie! I was wearing sandals! He goes "Man, they didn't have my size and you have a bag full of clothes." He tosses the shopping bag at me. I'm saying "I'm sorry." Cracking up at the same time.

Alright...I try on my silky tops tonight and guess what? THEY DON'T FIT! My breasts are too big; the silk was clinging to my chest so tight, there were lines. Nombre (no man), I can't look like that. Mama says a "stuffed potato." No, I can't wear tight clothes like that. Nu uh! I thought the silk material would tear. That's how tight. I thought in a matter of seconds - I would hear a "rrrrrrrrrrrrrip." I quickly removed the shirts removing the silky beautiful top...and I felt like Abe. Oh well, so now we're even! Looks like I'll be carrying a new book bag in fuschia pink w/ black stripes and wearing a nice tie sash on Friday. But no nice top for me :(. I was thinking "well Abe must've jinxed me!" I still love him though!

Prayer & Patience

To My Readers:

I wanted to encourage everyone to seek prayer and have patience in any situation in their lives. In my last post, I was upset, fearing I'd have an anxiety attack. I had to take deep breaths and as much as I wanted to dismiss the thought, I could not. I've been worried about this course - Narrative Fiction - I need to take next semester to complete my Bachelor's degree that may not be offered @ my school. I ranted and raved; did it help? A little bit to get it off my chest. Blow off steam, you know. The more I thought, the more I realized, I needed to have patience. That's all I can do really. I'll talk to my professor and see what's going to happen ... just wait for the Spring schedule to come out. Stay positive....

Let's all remember to take a moment to pray every day. Pray for our loved ones. Pray for the hurricane victims. Just pray. Period. Give thanks for your life, no matter how bad you think it may be. Always remember someone else has it worse than you.

Learn patience.
Learn to accept
- those things you cannot change.
Learn to forgive.
Learn to live.
Learn to wait.
Learn to PRAY.

Let Me Get This Off My Chest

It hit me right to the core when she said. My eyes nearly rolled out of my head like small rolling balls of surprise. I had to blink and pause, what did she just say?
"Narrative Fiction" will not be offered in the Spring. WHAT? No, this can't be! I need that class to graduate! That is one of the last ENGLISH courses I need to complete my degree. The professor is going on research-leave so she will not be teaching. I am glad she's going on research leave - good for her.
"No one else has offered to teach it, so I don't know what's going to happen. We'll probably offer it in the summer." The summer? What? I want to graduate in the Spring! Four years = bachelor degree. I've worked so hard the past three years, SO HARD. I've stayed inside and studied when I wanted to go out. I've worked TWO jobs, fifty-five hours a week and more, just to pay my bills so I can go to school. I've exceeded the full-time student credit hours. I've lost so much sleep over the past three years so that I could graduate with my BA in four years and then, they want to stop offering a course I NEED. I am trying not to over-react here, but DAMN! Y'all know how positive I am; I don't usually rant and rave like this, but once again DAMN!

I let the news sink in; I reminded myself to focus on class. Today was the last day we discussed Sandra Cisneros, my inspiriation. I had to swallow my tears and THINK. Maybe, they'll teach it in Sugarland, and I'll just drive up there once a week, yeah drive 100 miles to take a course. With gas being so high, I'll start to swipe that Chevron credit card more frequently. Then, it dawned on me, like a river current reaching the bank and spreading, will Mom and Dad let me drive to Sugarland? Shit... They barely let me drive to Victoria by myself, but Sugarland? Crap! Ahhh..well IF AND HOPEFULLY, they'll offer it in Sugarland, I'll just have to explain to them. Make my point to them. STAND UP for my education as I've tried and tried to do for the past three years.

I've thought about this all afternoon now that is has got comfortable in my brain. I expect and plan to be in grad school next year at this time, working on my MFA, doing what I love = writing. I expect to walk that stage in May and receive my BA. Not wait for it to come in the mail and then particpate in Fall grad ceremonies. I am holding onto my dreams, pursuing my goals. I don't just THINK about something to happen, I MAKE something to happen. I don't sit around, ranting and raving like this. Nope, not my character. I'm determined.

I went to visit Texas State's website again. That's my dream school: http://txstate.edu

I've aspired to go there since I was in high school, heard almost things about their creative writing program. So, that's my first choice in grad school. I went and read over everything; I know the checklist by heart. 3 letters of recommendation; 15-20 poems or 2-3 short stories or 40-50 pages of a novel, transcript. I'm READY for January, when I mail off that application packet and wait...wait till late February when they make their final decisions. I looked @ this site for quite awhile. I'm applying to other school as well, but Texas State is my dream school.

I'm praying now, trying to get rid of this tight feeling in my chest. I think I'm going to have an anxiety attack when I leave the office, scream, cry. something. Ahh, the characteristics of an emotional water sign. I am going to pray to God that they offer that class in Sugarland and it's available at a convienient time for me to take. I checked this semester's schedule and classes are offered on fridays over there. NOT FRIDAYS. That's for the LEAD program; I don't want to stop my work with LEAD. Well...let's just see what happens, I want to walk the stage in May, in my purple gown and receive my degree.

Before I Shut My Eyes & Before We Finish Cisneros

Before I lay down for the night, I will write. I will write because without writing, I could not live. We are going to finish Cisneros tomorrow in my Ethnic Lit course.

It will be a sad ending, because as we've discussed her in class, I feel as if I know her as a close friend when I talk about her, because I know so much about her life, her books, her writing, her purpose. I can relate so well to her.

That's the way I wish to live my life, with a vase of roses, and desk of pens in a colorful home. Sandra Cisneros has been my inspiriation as a writer since I was seventeen years old, it is her words I turn to, over and over again, like a trusting friend who is always there. By the way, I am beginning to sound like Emerson saying that books are my friends. I have her poetry books, stashed underneath my school books where I can easily pull out My Wicked Wicked Ways and read. Vintage Cisneros is there on the shelf where I grab it and read through my favorite sections of The House on Mango Street and Caramelo. http://www.sandracisneros.com Check it out.

Before I shut my eyes, I wanted to say how content I am once again. I find it devastating what happened with the hurricane, yet I also find it fulfilling at the same time because I have been able to help people that come into our insurance office. This is one of my purposes in life: to help people. I've donated items already; I donated money today as well. Whether I have it or not, I remind myself the Lord will provide. God gives back what we give out. Without even thinking, I agreed to donate yesterday for the relief fund.

At lunch-time, guess what? I find out that I got a SCHOLARSHIP! I was so happy because as some of you know, I had to take out student loans. I didn't expect to see that scholarship; I didn't see it coming. I am so grateful that I could throw myself on the ground and thank God. Woohoo! Every little bit helps. I've been working on this other essay for another scholarship, so just maybe my tuition will be covered in the Spring. :)

I had to share that great news! I'm happy, truly happy - bursting with joy! What can I say? Life does get better!

Meet Goldie - My New Wheels

Hi people, I promised to post up a pic of my new ride, so there she is. Smooth, fast, and comfortable. I had to get used to riding "low;" I was used to my little truck. Well, I'm saving money on gas now. About $20 a week I'm saving, but I better shut my mouth before they add another 50 cents!

It Felt Different Yesterday...

It's nearly 9 a.m; you'd think I'd be asleep since it's the weekend, and that's what I do on the weekends. Nah, I woke up at 8 a.m. I think my body is trained now with an eternal alarm clock to wake up early.

I woke up thinking about my day yesterday. I worked with LEAD, just to refresh you on what LEAD is. LEAD stands for Letting Education Achieve Dreams. This is my second year working with LEAD, and it feels different to be a returning "veteran" ambassador. Here's my defintion of LEAD: As "LEAD" Ambassadors, we talk to students (grades K-12) about attending college and encourage them to attend. We tell them about financial aid and scholarships. Working with this program has been a rewarding experience for me, and I am glad I have the opportunity to make a difference. I like to tell the students, "Anybody can be SOME-body." We are not just LEAD ambassadors; we're family!

We went to this high school and elementary school yesterday. While there, I remembered the high school from last year when we visited. When I went inside the classrooms, a feeling of deja vu washed over me. I was in a classroom with an African-American teacher (let me remind you how I love African-American people). She had control of that class; she snapped at the students. I could feel the respect in their eyes vibrating. She was down-to-earth as well, calling me "sista" by the end of my sessions. I felt so comfortable in her class with Chopin playing quietly and posters of literary terms covering the walls. In her class, the students were attentive and quiet. Great for high school students.

I encouraged interaction. I watched the way one young guy's face changed. At the beginning, he was kinda like "alright, I'm gonna be bored." Once I started talking about college and how you study something you love and enjoy, he perked up. His eyes perked up at me with interest. He was a respectful guy, raising his hand to ask me questions. Not just blurting out questions. He shared how he loved history, then he mentioned that he liked computers. I told him and the rest of the class about their options in their selection of a major, how theere is freedom of choice. *You can change your major. You can major in two things.* They were impressed; I could tell some of them had not known this information.

It started to feel different when I visited the next class. They recongized me from last year. I felt a sense of pride to be "recognized" an ambassador for education. One of the girls was excited that I'm going to school because I want to be a writer. She's a writer; she shoved a paper in my hand - eagerly.
"I've been writing this story for awhile. Will you please look at it?" I glanced at the notebook paper with written pencil marks in indentations. When I saw the identations, I thought of myself as a writer and how I make hard indentations in the paper. I read over her words. I saw her pain at the first sentence. She was writing about a young girl whose dad had left. Divorce. Seperation. I saw her comfort in writing. I watched her and how her ears perked up when I said *Your background does not matter in college. No one looks at who your family is, whether your parents were married or not, whether you were rich in high school. None of that matters.* As I read her story, I knew then why she wrote. She wrote to tell stories - the same as me. But, she wrote her personal stories as well. How did I know this? I knew this because of how she talked to me. Asked me questions about becoming a psychologist because she wanted to help people, but at the same time, she wanted to be a writer. I told her *Writers come all different careers.* I could tell by her clothing that she was not a high class student; I could tell by her writing that she had talent. It felt different to recognize talent like this in an individual, made me want to teach creative writing courses for high school students - who knows maybe I will.

We took different approaches to our students. One of the new ambassadors told me I "sugar-coat" everything and that I need to tell them about responsiblity etc. This was something nice to tell me, because I do. I sugar-coat things; I focus so much on the positive that I forget there are negative obstacles in our path. It felt different to inform the students that *Hey not everyone qualifies for financial aid; sometimes you have to take out loans.* I took out a loan for this semester. It felt different to tell them these things. I usually do "sugar-coat" everything and focus on scholarships and how that is what paid for my first three years of college tuition. I like to tell them about scholarships. Mention the twelve I received my senior year of college after applying for twenty. But then like Mama tells me "I never promised you a rose garden" I had to tell them that sometimes that free money runs out, and there's the option of loans. I felt different because I was telling them a truth. A truth that we must work for what we have. It is not ALWAYS handed to us. I think it was a necessary truth though.

This is my last year as an ambassador. We used to have more female ambassadors; this visit - we had more males. I like male company, sometimes more than female company. We had a blast. There was a balance there. The new members to the LEAD family helped tremendously with their new ideas, new approaches, new experiences. At first, one that I helped train was a little nervous; I tried my best to ease him into my College 101 presentation. He felt comfortable; I could tell. I wanted to take him under my wing and help him. That humanitarian nature of mine. I am glad to be doing this. Actually I am glad that I had to take out a student loan for this Fall semester of college because the lack of scholarships exposed a new truth to me and how I need to expose that truth to these young individuals I talk to. Hmmm...*don't sugar-coat everything.* I think it's an awesome approach.

Poem: "I Feel Proud When"

Last night in class, guess what I was doing? Listening to a lecutre about the Iliad and thinking about poetry. I was jotting down notes slowly on the right side of my desk and my hand kept sliding over to the left side of my desk where my little purple and brown striped writing journa sat open. The journal was calling to me, kept saying "Elsie! Get your ideas out on paper now that you have them, so you won't forget them. Just do it. Write." I kept sliding my hand over to the left side, writing frantically. My friend nudged me, thinking I was taking notes frantically. No way, I've read the Iliad twice already, and just reviewed the theme of friendship over the summer; it's fresh in my mind. Writing now, that was so fresh in my mind, I had to jott down lots of ideas on paper. About six pages of written indentations in black ink. For some reason, when I write, I press real hard on the paper so that my words are engraved on the paper. Alright, ENOUGH YOU SAY! GET TO THE POEM. SHUT UP! LOL, here's the poem (just a rough draft - subject to change.) Ok, I'll shut up so you can read...

"I Feel Proud When"

People in town recongize me
as one of the Contreras girls
"Si, you're the baby, verdad? La mona?"
- Yes, that's me.
"Such a respectful young lady."
"You make your family proud."
- Gracias, Senora

I feel proud when
people say
"Your bro's a good man; puro Contreras."
"And your sisters? Married with those beautiful children."
- Must be the way we were raised.
Taught to value family above all else

With loving hands
that hugged
and spanked
when necessary

With guidance y consejos
enough choice to be different
in our own seperate ways

With limited freedom to roam
off in different directions
but not enough to wander away
and get lost in the ways of the world

I feel proud when
I remember respect and morals
that has been branded on my skin
for all the world to see
like a bad sunburn
that reddens my face

I feel proud when
I remember Mama said
"I never promised you a rose garden."
And Daddy said
"Mija, you have to work for everything you have."

I feel proud when
my sisters smile
because they drive their own cars
with tinted windows,
tv screens,
CD players,
sunroofs,
we can't forget the cool a/c

I feel proud when
I remember the gravel roads
we traveled down during my childhood
puffs of dust flying inside
drying our eyes
till they itch and water
the truck rattling
rocking me to sleep

I feel proud when
my bro pulls up in his 18-wheeler
coming to grab
a hot tortilla fresh off the comal
he's big and round
with a sarcastic sense of humor
previous signs of cancer
invisible

I feel proud when
I say - I am a Contreras
Con que?
Con - treras
The r's roll off my tongue quickly

I feel proud when
I remember who I am
blending these old-fashioned ideas
from mi familia
my roots
mi cultura
with new generation ideas
of opportunity in life
that I grasp
with a strong hold
with a determined passion
to remember these stories
of family memories
of family good times
de mi familia

No matter where I go
what distances I travel
in my heart
I will always be a Contreras
When people see my face
and see my daddy's dimples
hear my mother's "sin pelos en la lengua" voice
they will recognize me as a Contreras
I will feel proud when...

Comments? Memories?

Tagged Again..Here It Goes

A-Accent: Texas White Girl Accent - Yeah, that's what my friends tell me.
B-Breast Size: 36D - Yeah, I'm blessed, too.... Have to wear VS btw, nothing else is comfortable. :)
C- Chore you hate: chores, all of 'em. I really hate sweeping and dusting, because I can't stop sneezing.
D-Dad's name: Basilio but he calls himself "Wally" Americanized, yep!
E-Essential make-up: Maybeliene Stay Fresh foundation - works like Clinique but costs less. Can't leave the house w/o my "mask" (like Karla w/ her "face.)
F- Favorite Perfume/Cologne: anything by Ralph Lauren or Victoria's Secret
G- Gold or Silver: a mixture...but I prefer silver or platinum!
H-Hometown: Edna, TX - Home of the Fighting Cowboys! - Yes, could I be anymore Texan?
I-Insomnia: frequently - too much on my mind.
J-Job title: Student / Secretary / UHV Ambassador
K-Kids: None yet....too much of a kid myself.
L-Living arrangements: w/ parents till I finish my B.A.
M-Mom's Birthplace: Port Lavaca, TX - She's a sandcrab!
O-Overnight Hospital Stays: When I was seven...plastic surgery. Horrible Accident - nearly died.
P-Phobia: Insects and spiders. ugh!
Q-Favorite Quote: "You have only failed when you have failed to try."{
R-Religious affiliation: Christian, but I still pray to the Virgin. (grew up Cathollic)
S-Siblings: One brother and two sisters - all older. That's right; I'm the baby!
T-Two You are Tagging: Mia and Nana
U-Unnatural hair colours you've worn: none....Mama likes me natural till I move out on my own.
V-Vegetable you refuse to eat: Tomatoes
W-Worst Habit: Procrastinating. hate deadlines
X-X-rays you've had: what hasn't been x-rayed?
Y-Yummy foods you make: "dirt/sand" pudding, cucumber salads - ahh so fresh & green, not much for cooking...
Z-Zodiac Sign: Cancer - yes, Water Sign, you know what that means right?

I Want It to Shine

I Want It to Shine

I am thinking about this short story I wrote. Y’all know the last one I told y’all about. It’s all posted under the title: “Short Story Is Complete.” That’s the blog link, well the title of the blog entry it is posted under. Something like that. Well, I worked on it some more today. I am adding to it. I want it to sound more like a novel, extend in that direction like a shooting star that soars in the sky in another direction.

This is what I want for my story. I want it to shine up there. I want to publish it. Spread that message. Give some entertainment. This is important to me because I feel that is my purpose in my life. This is why God put me here – to tell stories. There’s something about writing that really does excite me. I am always thinking about it.

When I am not writing, I’m thinking about it. Daydreaming. This is a trait of writers. We can sit and daydream, stare at a blank screen for minutes. The minutes can turn into hours and there we go, three hours of staring off into space and here we have it: a full page typed. I know there has to be some writers out there that can relate. Right?

Then there are those times that the energy just surges through my veins at a quick speed like lightning. . And, I must. I must release the words onto paper or into a Word document. This happened the other day at work. I heard an ambulance shriek by and a flood of memories drowned me. I started writing more to a dark and dreary death scene. Then for some reason, my thoughts shifted over to romance. Romance started to simmer under my veins, reminding me of Love’s warmth and joy. So, there I had to write more romance. The scene was just there in my mind, ready for me to describe in infinte details. Most importantly, I remembered the joy associated with love. . The emotions. So I return to being that emotional writer as I shift form description to emotions. It’s fun: I think it creates a sense of balance.

What More Could I Want?

The windows are being tinted on my brand-new 2005 Chevy Impala right now (will post pics as soon as I take some). I'm back in college, making new friends along the way. My job is great! I am excited about doing LEAD and promoting education to this area's youth. I am extremely excited about this because I love giving presentations about financial aid, college awareness, and how it IS possible to go to college.

I have everything I could ever want in a materialistic sense. My mom thinks I'm too materialistic because I like nice things in fashion, jewelry, accessories, cars... She thinks I need to focus on the things that money doesn't buy. I do focus on these things as well.
I feel rich because I have a family to go home to, even though we fight and argue sometimes.
I am rich because I have my baby goddaughter to watch grow up and help nurture.
I am rich because I have nieces and nephews to watch grow up as well. With these all these kids in my family, I don't need to have kids, lol.
I am rich because of the wonderful friendships I have in my life and I'm always ready to make more.
Most importantly, I am rich because I realize that in every thing that I do, God is there to guide me and strengthen me. Every time I fall, I trust that He will pick me up.

I am content with all that I have in life right now. I ask what more could I want?
Well, maybe a scholarship to pay my tuition and students loans off. Oh hell, it happens. God'll give me a good job to pay these debts off. What more could I want? To publish a novel that I need to complete.

I took a priority quiz once. This is what the result was - I'm trying to remember here...
1.) God
2.) career
3.) family
4.) friendships
5.) romance

My friends took the same quiz and were teasing me because of how romance fell at the bottom... Well....it's not that I don't want romance. It's just not something I am looking for right now. I am open for friendships with potential for a relationship. I can contradict myself right now, because my other blog "relfexionex" states that I want a relationship. Yeah, ooookay I want a relationship in time. I don't want to jump headfirst, eyes shut into a relationship with some fool I just met. And, hell no, I ain't about to jump into bed with some fool. The reason I make this last statement because I've noticed lately how a lot of guys that try to talk me, don't even hesitate to tell me their peepee is hard for me. I'm like "wtf?" I wanted conversation and friendship and you're asking for sex? I just met you, fool! I know some people jump in bed on the first night; I'm not going to deny it. But, when a guy approaches me, talking like that, it's a huge turnoff.

What more could I want? Hmmm....more time with R. Because he treats me like a lady. I've never been admired the way he admires me. He wants me to finish school, get my Master's. Keep it together. He warns me, tells me "you better not do something stupid like get pregnant or get married." The reason he makes these statements is because he knows what pressure I go through @ home. I don't even want to get into that. Too long a story. All I can say is: my family values family and starting a family more than education and pursuing my career. He knows me so well, knows that I want to get married upon completion of grad school, have a baby, settle down for a bit. WRITE. But he also understands what comes first. I love to be admired for these positive traits. By the way, R is my FRIEND. I cannot emphasize this any more. The tarot cards say we are not meant to be together; he was my dad or big brother in another life.

What more could I want? I am content now, I really am. I want to just sit back, enjoy my life, finish up this Bachelor's degree, get ready to move on. Spend time with my friends. Spend time watching my nieces and nephews grow up. Last night, Jazzy was drinking water out of her baby shampoo bottle like she was taking shots. I could not stop laughing!

Barbie Q by Sandra Cisneros

If you didn't know, Sandra Cisneros is my most favorite author for many reasons. Most importantly, because she was the first Latina - Mexicana author I ever read. The moment I was exposed to her literature, I became inspired. Ironically, I read "Straw into Gold: The Metamorphsis of Every Day" and these words would continue to guide through my life as I have pursued my college career.

In my Ethnic Lit course, we just began with Cisneros' Women Hollering Creek & Other Stories. What better ethnic writer than Cisneros? I love this course. Number one because I have a background knowledge of most of the authors we will be reading. Number two, because I enjoy any type of literature. Number three, because I am getting exposure to MORE authors.

We read "Barbie Q" today. The reason I am blogging about this is because of all the memories that this one story brought back to me. I loved Barbies as a little girl. I had 48 of them. Yes, I said 48. By the way, - to the reader- what were your favorite toys as a child? When I played Barbies, I made up stories. Barbie divorced Ken and kept the house, boat, and pink Corvette. Things like this. Barbie beat up Midge for kissing Ken. Midge had twins from Ken. Stories, my own little soap operas. My family used to tease me because I had noises on in my bedroom as a child. Noises of conversation and music. Noises of stories. They thought I was talking to myself. Nombre, I was creating stories and my characters (the Barbies) were acting them out. Thought I'd share that personal memory with my readers. Well, I recommend Sandra Cisneros; she's an awesome writer. My all-time favorite.

Her stories and books are so full of culture, emotion, family values, identity issues. Everything! They can be applied universally as well. I admire her talent as a writer. I want to meet her one day. I really do. I want to walk right up to her, give her a big hug, and say "Thank you for being yourself. Thank you for being a writer. Most importantly, thank you for inspiring me."

I'll leave you with this quote from Cisneros in "Tepeyac": Who would've guessed, after all this time, it is me who will remember when everything else is forgotten...

Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories, page 23.

Tagged Again by Groove

Ok Groove tagged me again. This is fun, gives me something to do that helps me think a little more.

Here It Goes

Seven Things I…Plan to Do Before I Die:
1.) Get My MFA in Creative Writing
2.) Publish a Novel
3.) Travel
4.) Get Married to a Wonderful Intellectual Patient MATURE Gentleman
5.) Have a Baby - when I'm ready
6.) Own a House
7.) Own My Own Business

Things I Can Do:
1.) WRITE
2.) Speak in public in front of a large group of people
3.) Be Open-Minded
4.) Dance to Nearly Every Kind of Music (I Think)
5.) Be There for My Friends When They Need Me
6.) LOVE
7.) CARE

Things I Can’t Do:
1.) Fall Asleep before Midnight Unless I'm Extremely Tired
2.) Say NO When a Good Friend Asks for a Favor
3.) Avoid a Big Sale @ the Mall
4.) Can't Ever Own Enough Handbags and Shoes
5.) Bite My Tongue When Someone Disrespects Me or Someone I Care about
6.) Drive Slow
7.) Walk in Pointy Heels - too clumsy

Things I say most:
1.) Sweetie/Sweetheart
2.) My Love
3.) Nombre (No man)
4.) Hay no (Oh no)
5.) Boom (exclamation)
6.) No way!
7.) Are you for real?

I tag Mia, Shelley, Karla, Suezette, Felicia, Liz, and Fred! You wonderful friends!!!

Started School Today Senior Year in College

I started college this week, and I'm embracing my senior year. Pulling it close to me and enjoying every minute. I had Poetry class tonight, wish I was learning how to write poetry (I already know), but no I am learning how to read poetry. The professor is down to earth. I have class every day, so I'm going to be in and out of the office and back and forth from home.

Well, I bought a new car, a 2005 Chevy Impala. Her name is Goldie; she rides so smooth. We tinted the windows, well actually started to. Me and my bro-in-law. It looks kinda ghetto because the wind was blowing so hard that we could not finish it. So my driver's window is tinted and the others are not. My friend saw it today. He was trying to hook me up with some rims when he noticed that only one window was tinted. He's like "damnn, girl you aren't worried about your passengers, just want to make sure your side is tinted. You wanna be riding cool. Forget your passengers." I started laughing that he could make humor out of something I thought was ghetto. So I'm riding pretty comfortably to school.

Before I shut my eyes for the night, thought I would drop by and let my readers know that I'm back in college. I might not be blogging as much; Imma try my best to keep this blog up. Since July, it's been up and going, so I want to try my best to keep my readers informed. My classes are alright, haven't started writing papers yet, so of course I'm feeling good and it's only the first week. The professors are giving introductions, syllabi, study guides, and reminders. No assignments yet. Wait till next week, I'll be cuddling up with books, oh yeah, I do that already lol. ;)