puras locuras

85

2006-12-11T19:23:00.000-08:00

My aunt died tonight. She was 85. I was watching the Bears game when we got a phone call. My dad left yesterday night on the bus. He will get there to bury her. I hope he is not shocked. It's happened before one gets to the town, only to find out a family member has just been buried.

My uncle is in the hospital again. He will have his other leg amputated this week. It's almost the end of the year... when these things happen.

mocos

2006-11-16T15:46:00.000-08:00

La interrumpio de sus tareas para contarle una anecdota que no podia esperar.

--Holy shit! I've never seen anything like this! Listen: Me subi al CTA y venia un cabron sentado casi al frente de mi... I don't wanna take the CTA anymore, dude. It seems like I fucking come across the most disgusting motherfuckers... Well, this dude had beard like ZZTop, all the way down his chest, and moustache that covered his lips. And who knows how long he'd been sleeping, but the snot had been dripping from his nose for so long that it had created puddles the size of golf balls on his beard. And there was a line of snot still connected from his nose to the puddles on his beard. And as he snored, the lines of snot flexed in the air and swung back down to skin his lips... I wanted to fucking vomit! I couldn't help it--I wanted to stop looking, I should have stopped looking... but I couldn't!

And with that I took the tale to the blogger.

How work silences you...

2006-02-16T18:21:00.000-08:00

Get this: Tubas just got terminated from his job for speaking up against the system. He wrote in the company suggestion box the following:

Improving shop efficiency chi-town style.

After reasonably milking their shop staff, I am proud to say that Chicago management has formulated an even more effective way to wring out work from their shop staff. Shop managers take note, this is the perfect way to get your shop to work against you.
1. Keep mechanics from leaving their 30' X 15' bays
2. Absolutely no talking amongst mechanics (includes cell phones)
3. Keep your mechanics staff from writing
4. No radio playing
5. Time your staff trips to the restroom (you might be losing a few work minutes)
6. Remove their labor book-- if the pre-inspector missed it and mechanics can't claim it they'll have to work harder to meet their required efficiency)
7. Overwork your salary people (they are salary which means you can work them as hard as you want
8. Cut your office staff and force the extra work on your salary people (if they refuse remind them what is stated at the end of each job description "your job is to do whatever management says")
9. Change shop manager consistently (this will cause chaos, save your shop manager pay until you find a replacement, and keep employees from asking for their do reviews)
10. If you absolutely must review with a raise, do it late. You won't have to review them again until that same date the following year.
11. Eliminate any program that will heighten shop morale, i.e. monthly barbecues, etc.
12. Fire those who speak up--this will frighten the staff and keep them from complaining.

And what were the grounds for firing him? Insubordination. What is this, the military? Incredible how the workplace inhibits any human being from being human. Talk about censorship. I think they were so mad to hear a worker speak up that they couldn't do anything but react by firing him. Ironically, they've reacted just how Tubas claimed they would.

Todo sobre coyote...

2006-02-13T17:50:00.000-08:00

That night, the night before Valentine's Day, she hit the sack early. Her back was in pain. She dreaded work the next day. Always so much to do. Te pega de un putazo tanto trabajo despues de un fin de semana tranquilo sin mas que la companhia de las amigas y unas cervezas. Pero bueno, estaba hablando de ella y de sus ganas de dormir...

Nada, que el coyote se mete con ella a sus cobijas. Durmieron tranquilamente por varias horas cuando derepente el coyote se pone agresivo. Olio que alguien entraba a la casa y se puso a hacer escandalo. Ella se levanto pronto, ni se puso la ropa; penso que algo sucedia afuera. Pero cuando llego a la puerta vio que estaba completamente abierta y el frio entrando. Se espanto. El coyote seguia ladrando. Cerro la puerta, y el hombre estaba escondido atras de esta, con flores en la mano. Ella lo miro detenidamente, porque estaba desnuda. Y no era su esposo, sino su vecino que habia entrado a la casa equivocada. En eso, el coyote siguio mas loco que antes. Le ladraba a su esposo que apenas venia entrando, y los sorprendio ahi parados, el vecino con flores y ella desnuda recien levantada de la cama.

--Que chinga'os pasa aqui?
--Te estaba esperando toda la tarde? En donde andabas?
--Y que hace este imbecil aqui?
--No se... no vendrian juntos? Dos pendejos, uno tras otro, el coyote no se puede equivocar dos veces.

Los dejo ahi parados, en silencio los dos hombres, y se dio la vuelta, otra vez a la cama con coyote.

"todo sobre mi madre"

2006-02-07T19:28:00.000-08:00

Cuando primero vi una pelicula de almodovar estaba en el DF. En aquel entonces andaba yo terriblemente enamorada de un tipo que decian era el mismo diablo. Creo que lo decian porque era feo, segun los estandares mexicanos. Rasgos indigenas. Moreno intenso, tono rojizo. Pero ademas un barbaro con las palabras y sarcastico hasta la madre. En fin, un dios para mi. El no tenia miedo al sexo o nada que ver con el sistema orgasmico. Y almodovar nos complacio en todo. Una pelicula sin barreras. Asi fue esta que acabo de ver. A pesar de ser triste de muchas maneras, era bastante abierta. Yo le llamo libertad, yo le llamo humanidad. Le llamo, no actuar, como el mismo almodovar le dice, pero improvisar en la vida. Asi es la vida, y no nos queda mas que improvisar para vivirla plenamente. Los planes no son de la vida, son del miedo de no poder vivir sin mapas, a ciegas. Prefiero menos leyes. Y prefiero que almodovar me recuerdo esto en estos dias tan apagados por la monotonia. Ultimamente, he pecado mucho de lo convencional.

viva mexico, chicago

2005-09-15T20:37:00.000-07:00

I just watched some coverage on the 10pm news noticiero in Spanish on the celebration of Mexican independence. It was weird. The reporters were very excited to be covering the event, and proudly commending us for being well-behaved. They mentioned how on huge -scale events we had demonstrated once again that we could 'estar a la altura'; how the event had ocurred without any 'events.' In other words, they meant to congratulate us because: we hadn't stirred up any trouble, there had been no fights, no police force was necessary to put us in order. One reporter even mentioned it was a first-class type of event, for a first-class crowd.

I thought it was lamentable that they should have to mention that as a highlight of the celebration. Do we need to be congratulated for breaking with the stereotypes as 'troublemakers,' 'disorganized,' 'violent,' etc.? Even among our own people, we find ourselves believing the expectations that others groups have placed on us. I found myself wondering, what were the newscasters (and others) proud of the amazingly well-behaved mexican crowd or relieved that all had transcurred without any major incidents?

viva mexico. viva.

Desaparecer del olvido

2005-08-24T21:15:00.000-07:00

It's not impossible to run out of writing. This we all know. Nunca lo crei posible. Pero ahora estoy llegando a esa conclusion. I may be jaded. Or is it that I have spent so much effort in love emesis that I have few things left for anything else? Hace meses, mientras dormia sola en las habitaciones vacias de mi casa en Mexico, desperte mucho antes de la media noche para no volver a dormir por dias. Me atormentaba mi crimen: habia llegado al limite de la cursileria, con mis poemas y prosas cargadas de mi corazon pesado, corazon alegre, corazon necesitado, coqueto... y me di cuenta de todo eso antes de la media noche. Que pena!, dije.

Pero aunque me aseguraba el sujeto de mis poemas y prosa que todo era lindo, recorde la frase que algun dia emplee como mi guia para no caer en tal verguenza: "do not overcook!" Lastima que ahora he recaido. He dejado de intentar salir de esta fase, tal vez porque siento que no se puede forzar. Me revolcare en cursileria hasta que llene. Pero tampoco creo que necesito pasar otro desaire amoroso para poder escribir algo que valga la pena. Es mas, prefiero no pasarlo. Les temo, en verdad, porque le temo al invierno y el frio espantoso que me ha aplastado con todo eso.

En fin, he concluido con este breve ejercicio: prefiero la cursileria al invierno prolifico de negras creaciones. Si no fuera asi, yo viviria muerta en ese frio desertico.

Hube querido

2005-06-21T21:27:00.000-07:00

escribir mas a menudo. Atender mis blogoterapias, como dios manda. Pero el miedo de pensar mas alla de lo que debo me arrastraba hasta las paginas de un diario que guardo en un baul, escondido y enterrado en el zotano. no vaya ser que mis negros pensamientos broten con vida, y alguien descubra quien en realidad soy. o, mas bien, no vaya ser que mis cuentos se tornen tan ridiculos, que resulten dificil de creer, y pierda yo mi audiencia escasa; que de por si ese peligro ya corro.

hube querido no ser tan rara. cuando ninha le temia a mis extranheces. despues, siempre quise ser normal. dios no me dio esa desdicha. ni mis padres tampoco. a veces reniego. a veces digo, ah, pues se encuentran analisa y otros seres divinos y raros, de que preocuparme? asi encuentro alivio de mi misma.

digo todo esto porque me siento sola en muchos lugares. sere yo? o seran las personas con quien trabajo y convivo que son tan diferentes a mi? sera que no tengo mucho en comun? que no tengo que aportar? que siento una increible indiferencia a los chismes que ocupan tan detenidamente a mis companheras de trabajo y a mis socios. sera que existimos mas en unos mundos que otros, que cuando salgo de un mundo para meterme en otro estoy mas completa, mas integrada, mas capaz de mi misma. pero todos somos raros. no me senhalo como diferente. solo me senhalo como aquella que siempre ha vivido en el capullo de un volcan.

More on the Juarez cases

2005-06-13T09:50:00.000-07:00

http://www.now.org/issues/global/060905juarez.html

today: nacos and other concerns of fellow Mexicans

2005-06-07T18:22:00.000-07:00

today, when i went to the chiropractor because my neck is bothering me terribly, i saw a friend i hadn't seen in a while. she shared an article with me and asked for my opinion; she said she agreed with some of it. It was written by an Ingeniero Javier Navarro, and it was an opinion piece that basically complained about the 'quality' of mexicans that came to the US nowadays.

According to him, the Mexicans that had come in the 50s were much more respectable and hard-working, honest people than those who come today. He, being Mexican himself, was embarrased of the mexicanos that were so uproarious and irresponsible, that even politicians like Jeb Bush and Senator Kennedy criticized us for "las horribles conductas de mexicanos que huyen de Mexico, cruzan las fronteras y se meten ilegalmente para establecerse en ciudades americanas se han vuelto tan vergonzosas, tan odiadas que ya ni los negros nos aguantan." Does this sound a-la-Fox or what? The man sounds terribly ignorant for criticizing his own people with little more reason than his personal dislike of mexicans who do not behave with 'class'; he superficially goes on to describe them as 'nacos', and is worried about what others view us as: "invasion de mexicanos ignorantes, feos, mal educados, violentos y borrachos."

talk about worried about self-image, this is self-hate. He goes on to justify that some well-educated mexicans insist on living among "barrios blancos elegantes" and now he understands this well: "no soportaban estar entre esta 'mugre' de inmigrantes feos, mal vestidos, los clasicos Nacos que tanto nos averguenza a los que si seguimos amando a Mexico y a este noble pais donde vivimos."

He then concludes that: "Por esas conductas destructivas ya nadie nos aguanta. Y todavia Vicente Fox se pone a exigir amnistia! Porque no los retuvo en Mexico ofreciendoles mejores oportunidades en su propio pais?"

And what conductas destructivas can he be talking about? He mentions the loud parties "con musica de tamborazo", la gente que satura las calles con sus tantos hijos, carros viejos, puestos de chicharrones, balaceras de noche; He mentions the driving of people without licenses that put others at risk. He then goes on to say that they go around with this dangerous behavior "y si se les pone dificil huyen y se largan a sus ranchos de Mexico, de donde nunca debieron de haber salido."

I was disturbed that the writer of the article was a Mexican himself, and an "educated" person, at that. I also wondered about his criteria for criticizing his own people: he equates physical attributes (feos, mal vestidos, etc), things that are out of control for people, with destructive behavior and ignorance and "mugre." How logical is that? and how offensive to have this come from a Mexican. How can you put yourself on the sides of politicians who have essentially little but self-interest invested in our communities to judge us by? How can you come to believe that you have more of a right to be in this country than a fellow national, simply because you believe you have the "educational" and "class" criteria. In the end, his concern was that a few bad Mexicans were spoiling the bunch of 'good' ones.

I have no doubt that he is definitely in that rotten batch.

como no esperar...

2005-06-05T20:06:00.000-07:00

como no esperar: me pongo a pensar en mis prisas y me rehuso a apurarme tanto.

como no perder el tiempo esperando? (en esta ultima pregunta, lo importante no es "que" esperamos, sino el hecho de estar esperando lo que cuenta). podemos seguir varias recetas. por ejemplo, ir a la playa y meterse a nadar. hoy era un buen dia para eso. o dejar de pensar en estupideces que no tienen remedio. o ir en bicicleta por la orilla del lago, y exaltarse de gusto por el clima (por fin se siente el verano) sin quejarse, solo sentirlo. o reunirse con varias amigas el fin de semana para compartir trabajo (o por lo menos hacer el intento), y beber, reir, y joder. la siguiente situacion puede no venir al caso o si:

--Falta mas de un siglo-- le dijo el.
--Si-- ella se dio cuenta de que el tenia la razon.
--Bueno, pues entonces hagamos algo fuera de lo comun.
--Esta bien, pero que?
--Dame un beso, y ponte a amarme.

Resulta que ellos viven en un planeta raro donde solo llueve cada siglo. y estan esperando, porque les gusta como huele la tierra cuando llueve. y mientras esperan pues van a entretenerse de otras formas. aunque resulta que no debieron estar esperando tanto... porque no van a vivir para ver esa lluvia tal vez. son ridiculeces, claro... pero puedo asegurar que no he fumado nada, solo que estoy ejercitando mi cabeza, y eso puede resultar en bastantes incoherencias.

very guiam ways

2005-05-26T14:05:00.000-07:00

How could Guiam be so cruel and unusual, they all thought as they eyed her in disgust. Sosle despicable, Guiam, they thought. The heads of IHOG (International Haters of Guiam) gathered round a pit of frying coyote that year to initiate another ranting session on Guiam and other guiamesque bullshit. needless to say, Guiam too was at the event. She mingled with the sour faces, oblivious to their evil plans to murder her or, (the ever more exciting variant that they had worked on for years with no success) cook her as they looked on at her agony. She squirted lemon in coyote's ears and gnawed ruthlessly on the stuffed coyote toes. She skipped away from the cook, with a half-baked coyote in her bag, and drank a martini decorated with a coyote tail, instead of the traditional floating coyote noses.

by the end of the evening, guiam was too stuffed to continue prancing around and playing. the ILOG plan then went into effect, at exactly 20-hundred hours: several sauth meksican coyotes were then unleashed & had been trained to attack any guiam on the premises. This plan was also failed, given that Guiam had gone dressed in the most fashionable coyote outfit, and resembled none other than a coyote. The coyotes were unable to distinguish her in the 'disguise.'

The following morning Guiam awoke on a huge mound of sleeping coyotes and had to find way down without stepping on the ears, noses, or other delicate areas that would ruin them for a future meal... (no one would care for a coyote with a crooked ear, or a flat nose). These were a perfect batch of coyote, undoubtedly from Sauth Meksico, she thought as she yawned amidst the quivering, breathing pile of furry critters.

10 things i love

2005-05-23T21:17:00.000-07:00

because mariposa has tagged me, here we go:

1. road trips to mexico in the summer
2. chewing on soft ice until my tongue is numb
3. getting those quick spurts of stories that come out of my hands effortlessly
4. seeing my nephews smile & laugh & play
5. drinking with my good friends & family
6. going to the blues & other music concerts & festivals
7. engaging in a good conversation with friends or family
8. seeing my parents laughing and happy
9. travelling to a new city
10. music & dancing

guiam's return

2005-05-23T14:40:00.000-07:00

Sauth Meksico had been exhausting. Guiam se la habia pasado en los pastos con el coyote (a quien se referia malcriadamente como Ka-oti) tomando martinis y riendose de puras estupideces (eso ya era comun en ella, y cuestion de genetica, mas que nada). De por si, tenian bastante trabajo: la guiam que se habia hecho cargo de las oficinas en chicago se la pasaba tomando recados para Guiam de pedidos para mas coyotes. Estos pedidos casi nunca los surtian, ya que las bodegas estaban vacias de alguna coyote. Y, sin embargo, la vida era menos complicada para Guiam. Esas bebidas y risas la mantenian viva y alegre. Lo demas nada importaba. Ni los negocios, ni los clientes, ni la guiam a cargo del telefono, esclavizandose sin pago alguno.

Ya veria Guiam cuando regresara como arreglar sus asuntos de negocio. Por lo pronto, un martini mas; un chiste aun mas ridiculo que el ultimo, un ratito mas en Sauth Meksico, mientras el coyote dormia a su costado, pareciendo una "donut" y apeteciendocele a Guiam cada vez mas. De repente, se dio cuenta que tenia hambre. El coyote lucia tan delicioso, crudamente delicioso...

birthday blues turned bliss

2005-05-10T14:52:00.000-07:00

yeah, i was quite depressed. those landmark years always seem to creep up on us. i never thought it would happen to me. anyways, had to babysit, didn't know where i was going to go celebrate, didn't feel like going out anymore, although i told myself that on a b-day, going out & celebrating was an obligation. landmarks are a big deal!

so, rushed to see if i could get some shoes. picked up analisa at the shoe store. shoes sucked. i hate shopping last minute. nothing. i'll wear jeans, as usual. headed back to greeni's house. running late for babysitting: didn't they realize i still had to get back home & change & call people to tell them a donde ibamos a ir? anyways, there'll be enough time. bone was slow. i kept bugging her. analisa in the back seat, spewing out good chisme.

get to my house. why can't she poop at greeni's house? where is everyone? when we rolled around to greeni's house, i see une (my jeep is named Une) outside. what is he doing here? my parents & bro were creeping into the house. i knew it was weird. i suspected then. open the door: Surprise!

I knew, and I felt like an ass. being mean to bone all week. good food, great friends (although we missed some of you), nice gifts, many shots... and little memory of how i crossed the street and got into bed...

the real sandwich story

2005-05-06T21:30:00.000-07:00

i know that this sandwich tale has come up on various occassions (& some of you have had to hear it more than once; for that i do not apologize but only ask that you bear w/ me while i explain my side of it). I can understand when people hold grudges sometimes. In fact, there are many movies and literature devoted to such things. History is full of such mishaps. Some life tragedies have revolved around grudges being held for murders of parents or children or girlfriends, of genocide, of loss of livelihood, of land or homes. (such is the case of that oh so famous movie: "El Cabron Que Mató a Mi Padre").

but some grudges, i believe are best left behind in the "cute" memoirs chest, not blown out of proportion and relived at every chance you get, particularly when replaying the incident is for the sole purpose of making me seem "evil-er" than I am. so goes the sandwich story that bone tells to each one of my friends when trying to convince them of how i treat her:

that we were young, she is younger than i am, and at the time, i was much bigger than she was. she was this petite, tiny, cute little thing. that day she had prepared herself a sandwich, and i asked her to give me one bite of the sandwich, because i was hungry too (i couldn't make myself a sandwich because there was no more ham or cheese or something like that). i took the sandwich and took one bite out of it, and continued holding it in my hand, as she beckoned me with her hands to give her back the one bite that was left of it. but instead i continued to eat the last bite of the sandwich, it was gone. and she was so mad, that as small as she was, she took revenge. she took a cup of water and threw it at me and wet my clothes.

[this is the part where i become even more evil, she stops telling the story at this point.] then she ran to hide under my aunt's legs. my aunt was too busy on the phone that she couldn't stop me from going right under that table and yanking her grenhas and calling her names.

that was the stupid sandwich story. tell me: does this deserve fucking international attention or what? i hope one day this is archived in the book of black banda history and buried. i'm not the one who keeps bringing it up (although we have considered it for a movie...).

Quantum physics?!

2005-05-03T11:09:00.000-07:00

You come back on friday from work, eat quickly and get ready for a play reading at Mestizo. Analisa is there already. Many people already waiting for the play to start. Adnakiel. It slowly starts to come alive, the actors prisoners to their script, bound to their chairs (not physically), little movement. Mostly words, which, even under these circumstances, were no less powerful. It ends, and bone is distracted by a certain someone in the audience whom she knows and doesn't want to see.
Q&A follows: Analisa quick to engage with some good questions and feedback. Some stupid questions also pop up by some of the nerds in the audience. You think to say to these nerds: relax, let your imagination roll...

You chat casually with one of the cute actors, friend of analisa's, waiting to leave. On the way home you pick up a movie. It comes well-recommended from a co-worker: What the bleep do we know? Silly title. It's weird. Its a documentary. some of the doubts & questions we've all had, come up here. It's a different way of approaching the world: the idea that we are not only observers but participants in what goes on in the world; in science you are usually the observer. Quantum physics disputes this approach. You watch the movie realizing that science is also uncertain of what's going on. weird. you realize you have been less engaged in your own life lately, being so consumed by daily activities. you listen to the message: it's quite opportune.

lo que es de nosotros...

2005-04-29T14:12:00.000-07:00

estuve escuchando algo de george lopez. i had not heard his stand up, although i had heard people talking about it. it was hilarious! i know it's so stereotypical, but come on!: we all have that in our families, where when you're dying they have to bust out with the 'vicks'-cure. you could have a freaking ear-ache & somehow vicks is the cure-all. then there was the other joke about how we're do-it-yourselfers. we can't hire people to do our home projects; we always have someone who knows of a guy that can do it for cheaper. yeah, g.l. was funny!

i rememember when i first started learning about who we were, as Latinos, as mexicanos, as chicanos. things started making sense. When I lived in Mexico, I realized how different all these things were, how I became like a chameleon, adapting to the context & issues of the place I inhabited at the time. There were many differences between mexicanos & "pochas/os" like me. But still, this was me, I said to myself. This is where I came from. I was introduced to literature and arts, and other things that were "ours."

we're so heterogenous, but at least many of the mexican families i know can relate to george lopez. we have something in common.

un poema... para variar

2005-04-28T09:55:00.000-07:00

surgió un problema

inesperado

lejos

o tal vez

cerca

contigo

será un dilema?

no pueda ser bendición:

de repente

los días

tormentas

de repente

las tardes

volcanes

de esperas

de repente

cuevas

horrendas

inciertas

de repente

santos

y rezos

velas

incienso

oraciones

de noche

de repente

peticiones

y mandas

que no me ahogue

la vida

que se calme

la inútil ausencia

que se esfumen

malditos

esos días

que para verte

se hacen tanto de rogar

--(xencha)

a bit of doom...and anger

2005-04-25T16:54:00.000-07:00

Can't help feeling this doom when i hear that my baby bro was arrested, like a criminal for no reason at all, by some suburban cops on his way back from greeni's house. No reason for pulling him over, but of course, tickets emerged for various things, and then they handcuffed him and took him in for suspended license. and someone had to go spend 200 dol to bail him out. Fingerprints & mug shots taken. It's a new procedure, they said, although it feels strange. Que hijos de puta, comemierdas, y...mal fin tengan! Come on?! Spare me the bullshit. A few weeks ago, Dr. Vodka & I hovered over Mundo when some gangbangers beat the shit out of him, and he called the cops and no one came to his rescue! And now to hear another incident where these pricks continue in their uselessness by arresting innocent well-to-do citizens. You know, I hate to play the race card, but what else is it?! Someone explain that to me! They're trying to finish they're fucking quota, it's that time of the month?!

Anyways, we think we're free. I've had this discussion w/ A a couple of times over chat. He says: at least you have choices in your country (unlike Cuba). I say: check out our choices, A, why don't you come & see for yourself? Why don't you stop undermining our struggles in this country, why don't you give some validity to the fact that we have injustices that we are constantly living and fighting against. Then, the whole political discussion explodes: your government is evil, and so is mine. We have these authority figures who are power hungry and manipulative: they exist everywhere, in every country, on the local levels, with the cops and the pinche tienditas de cabrones despotas who overcharge the paisanos por productos mexicanos, and within our families...

this bad weather and little stories have a way of aggravating me.

tiene muchas sospechas de mi...

2005-04-22T13:35:00.001-07:00

I think she is confused about me: she wants to think I'm a good girl because at my age, I've made it through school (for the most part), without getting pregnant (which also is PROOF that I have not had premarital sex!), and without embarrassing the family. At this point, though, that does not matter. Now other issues are more worrisome, like the fact that I am not exactly in line with the whole church thing.

--tienes tiempo de ir a los bailes y a las cantinas, pero no tienes tiempo de ir a misa?
--si voy a misa, pero yo prefiero rezar yo sola. ademas, dios esta en todas partes, no tengo porque ir a hacerlo frente a un padre.
--ay! (she performs the part of the vaquero getting shot in the heart in the duel), tu no sabes lo que estas diciendo!
--claro que no; pero no tengo porque ir con un padre a que interceda por mi; para eso yo le rezo a mi abuela y a los santos, y al mismo dios. ademas, el padre es una persona, un viejo como cualquier otro. yo no se porque uds andan de muy pinche serviciales con los padres. algunos hasta se empenhan en andarles oliendo el culo, como si fueran dioses.
--ay! mejor callate! se me hace que tu eres masona o sinarquista. esa es de la religion mas mala que hay...

y ahi se quedo esa conversacion. she is convinced that i am evil, that i hate the church, that i am of a different religion (not being Catholic means you are already in the wrong), that i am outright wrong. well, there are worse things than not believing in the church, like believing blindly in it.

but i do have to shut up next time, not because i agree with it, but because i have to respect the fact that for my family it has become more of tradition, it is part of our culture & background. and if i want to continue being on good terms with my family, i have to participate. not that that's a bad thing at all: nobody is forcing me to enjoy the parties that we throw for any number of reasons, like el bautismo de greeni... with a band and dancing, as we drink away, cussing into the wee hours of the night, como los demonios que somos!

ademas de trabajo, que hay de nuevo?

2005-04-19T22:50:00.000-07:00

nada.

my job is becoming such a drag. it's not that there's not anything to do, it's that the stuff i'm doing is something i'm learning nothing from anymore at this point. it's not exciting anymore, and it's disorganized.

anyways, i have to make a decision: should i stick with it until i finish my dissertation work, since it is flexible. or should i look for something else? at this point, i feel like i'm just lingering around waiting, going in mindlessly & automatically to work. it's a job.

new times--30 approaches

2005-04-13T20:31:00.000-07:00

i'm going back to cuba. for vacation. of course, there is also the added bonus of meeting a friend that i was not able to hang out with last time i went, because of time. i am NOT hoping to find love, (although I am so in love with the idea of going back there again); that's not the point. the point is... that i get to travel to cuba again, sooner than i thought because now i have this excuse and reason; that i get to meet new people and plant more memories there; that i get to go on an adventure b/c after all, this is the year of my 30th birthday, and i don't get any pleasure out of bungee jumping (i'm so afraid of heights) or sky-diving, or any other such life-threatening experiences (cuba is safer than that & so is the plane ride).

today at work, and all this week, people have been telling me that i look different.

--hey, you look nice! did you have to interview someone today? (we're conducting interviews w/ people for a research project)
--no, no interview.
--oh! who are you cheating on us with?

they seem to think that i'm dating someone. the reality is that i'm approaching that age: early mid-life-crisis-type of feeling with the 30s. and i don't want to get there and realize i'm still not taking care of myself, or i'm too sloppy or have too little time even for myself...

but anyways, back to cuba: the point is, i get to leave for a while, and then stay in mexico for another while, and "desentumir" my brain, (as one jerk once so lovingly suggested to me) of this routine, maddening situation of work and work and study and come home. i vowed not to fall into that trap, and this is my periodic attempt to break from that. there comes a time when i feel like i have to take action, to move, to do something different. it will be one more experience in my life, b/c you know, 'la vida pronto se acaba.' it's time to leave...again.

PASS

2005-04-12T09:19:00.000-07:00

after what seemed months of agony studying for comprehensive exams, they were finally over at the end of february. what a grueling experience: handwriting for hours on some topics that are supposed to bring all your knowledge on a field together. somebody said, that can't be good for exposing your knowledge on a field.
last night i got the letter of the results. i didn't read what it said: i only referred to the grid that had a list of the exams I took and read, PASS, PASS, PASS. and i was very, very happy.

"regrésamelo todo, corazón...cuando sientas que existo"

2005-04-05T19:48:00.000-07:00

Do you ever love a song that someone recommends you, simply because that person recommended it to you? Well, this is different. I genuinely love the song. Some years ago, when I was undergrad and had my own radio show, I boasted the only Spanish show in the entire Bloomington-Normal area. Although few students on the campus caught my show, many Latinos living in the area would tune in and call for requests. With my limited music collection (because of my broke-ass and my limited musical repertoire), I usually could never honor their requests:

--No tienes algo de Maná?
--No, no tengo...
--A ver, algo de rock?
--No... pero no te gustaría escuchar algo de Selena?
--?!...

And I would usually play whatever the Spanish radio stations in Chicago carried. Pretty limited. Then, Dini came into the picture. He shared his music collection of rock and pop. Then, I left to Merida for a year and I discovered "rock en espanhol." And ever since then, my music fancies have been ever-expanding. It's not just rock, it's jazz, and blues, and ska, and trova, which I fell in love with when I lived in Mexico City, and musica huasteca... and tons of other goodies that I had no clue about.

I've been listening to more trova: armando rosas, and the sexy, hypnotic lyrics of raul torres con su "Regresamelo Todo":("corazon, lo quiero de regreso: tus caricias de ada, tus labios de jasmin, tus orgasmos mas densos... y si lo tienes bien, si no es mucho pedir, regresa tu con ellos...")

I wish I had my radio show again... I would share many wonders and musical delicacies with my faithful listeners.

exhiliration... at none other than Jewel's

2005-02-03T20:15:00.000-08:00

yup, like the damn nerds that we are we headed to Jewel's at 10pm. need some peanut butter, lettuce, but it's so expensive here... we found some specials. then, there we were in a short line, but still, having to wait in line sucks, even if it's a short one.
but now they have that handy and exciting self-check out line! whoo! we headed over there with our scanty purchases, and it was great! scan your own bread! man!

--what do i do with this pepino?
--look on the list, key in #3456.
--JAJAJAJAJ
--oh, it's asking me to place that in the bag.

it definitely took us longer than waiting in line, but it was so fun. we are some nerds if that happened to be the highlight of our day...

café de noche

2005-01-14T19:22:00.000-08:00

Late night studying and work continues, and will continue through March, or maybe indefinitely for the next year. But good thing I can share the torture with analisa, who suffers just as much as I do & can empathize. In the wee hours, my stagnant mind, overwhelmed with theories to the brim can sometimes take a different turn. Coffee is a good companion, too.

tomar café de noche
invierno afuera
en la ventana
el cementerio a
nuestro costado
la nieve
encubriendo mil bóvedas
pardo blanqueado

tomar café de noche
como casi nunca se hace
la música en el fondo
marcando el paso
del silencio
será una noche
de esas
ocupadas de trabajos,
distracciones esparcidas
estratégicamente cada par de horas
ansiosas
por romper con el tedio
de la lectura,
un chiste repentino y mal logrado
un recuerdo tirado entre las teorías,
conceptos literarios, sociológicos, lejanos
fantasías sexuales
anécdotas triviales

tomar café de noche
larga y pálida
desvelada
compartiendo cansancio
espantando el sueño
peleando con vuelos y escapes
de la mente
forcejeando para enfocar
para poder acabar algo
atadas a nuestra extraña compañía solitaria
y tomando café de noche

--guiam

new friends for a new year

2005-01-07T15:17:00.000-08:00

Boy, still floating in memories of Mexico a week later... (sigh). I listen to Ramon Ayala and los Cadetes de Linares almost non-stop, and my brothers laugh at me saying: She listens to that music and imagines she's still in La Villa.

Because I had a bad incident with my ex-friend-boyfriend, I seem to be recalling the guys I had contact with on this trip. My dancer friend was absolutely hilarious: bailamos? He would do some fancy, crazy moves and made me laugh, excellent dancer. The guy at the bus station, seemed to be such a charming gentleman. We had a promising conversation in the works before we had to be torn away by the departure of my bus at 12.30 in the morning. I lost his phone number... Then, the other dancer at the last dance: a nice guy, decent dancer, a recent engineering graduate from UNAM. Those are rare in my town and adjacent cities. I lost him when I took to dancing with another guy.

Anyways, now I got back to Chicago and have a little more time to think I think about my fracaso with my ex and then some not-so-trivial things like that test & my new project at work. BUT, then I got this little note in my email from un cubano, friend of a friend. I never met him while I was in Cuba. Jamie had threatened to hook us up, but it never happened: we were out & about when he showed up to see us in La Habana. New friends: the iguanita living with us at my house temporarily until my brother takes him back (coyote is very curious about him); and Alex. This is just a perfect remedy for forgetting the trivial bullshit that I need to weed out of my mind.

I have to study... but I've forgotten how!

2005-01-06T14:07:00.000-08:00

Yes, that's the story. Big exams in March. 8 hours, they told me. What do I have to know? EVERYTHING, they told me. Just like that. You mean, review semesters' worth of work?! Who knows? I've been neglecting it more than addressing it, that sometimes happens when you feel overwhelmed, I've been told.

Wine helps. I had 3 glasses last night. Did some reading (after Rubi, of course). Slight notes. Chatted with a new friend online for a few hours. Today, more wine. I can't seem to get in the mood. "you can't wait to get into the mood, because the mood for studying may never come. you just have to do it. sit down & do it." maybe some weed will help, some suggest. Who know? A estas alturas me esta importando menos. A couple of years have gone by, and what have I done--studied. time to bring it all together, make some sense of it, write frantically about it in March, and then be prepared to do some real worthwhile work. But remember, it's more about the process. In between blues, cadetes de linares, sabina, drinks and nonsense I may be able to get by.

chicago blues

2005-01-05T20:24:00.000-08:00

tubas told me that this weekend there were gonna be blues everywhere. any blues place in the city was going to have some type of good performance in celebration of some type of blues thing. it is imperative that we attend, at least one day, i told him. coming back from Mexico, I can't help but feel the blues of this city. I don't know how I wake up sometimes, how I have woken up for so many years in these non-human-living conditions. I don't know. Chicagoans have to commended for living in this Siberian-type tundra environment.

Anyways, the blues. I listen to blues to beat my own blues: Sunday-night blues, Monday-night blues, Back-to-school blues, back-to-Chicago blues, back-to-work blues, winter blues, love blues, hate blues, blues, delicious blues with a good drink, hopefully vodka or beer or wine. Blues to help us survive these terrible winter blues.

I made no new year resolutions this year. I don't need the new year to jab me and say: hey, do something different. live your life, stop waiting. The excuse doesn't have to be new years'. all we need is a good swift kick in the ass, or for us to realize, over a trip or a drink that this year, I refuse to let this year go by without enjoying myself. i think i've grown to detest the whole goal-setting bullshit. if we live like that, we invest less energy into living our daily lives and more into a future bait. it's hard to say: but every year that goes by I seem to have less of an idea of what I am doing... funny how things work out that way.

mexican memories

2005-01-04T17:46:00.000-08:00

Regresamos de Mexico el lunes en la madrugada. I think the curse is over. It was an incredible experience, y todo marcho perfectamente. I was afraid that something would go wrong, just like in past Mexican winter travelling experiences. This time it was different: We went to 2 jaripeos, to dances, to las minas in Guaxcama which are abandoned, to la Rinconada to see la Virgen, to Mexico City to enjoy Coyoacan, a silly play, a ride in Xochimilco and to see la Virgen. Pagar mi manda. Dar gracias y pedir mas cosas. Despues, viajar entre las entrañas y venas de la ciudad, hasta llegar al Zocalo, caminar todo el dia, dejar de comer (por no tener hambre) solo para llegar a quien sabe donde. Y por fin llegar al Bar El Opera y beber sola pero con irasali, y escuchar el trio tocar como con una harpa la barca, libro abierto, un vodka, otro vodka, un martini asqueroso. Despues marcharnos ya tarde, antes de la medianoche, para alcanzar el camion que sale a San Luis a la medianoche o a la una de la madrugada, para poder viajar de noche y amanecer alla.

Y el frio y el dolor de un hombre aun fresco. Es cuestion de tiempo, eso lo se. Pero si en tantos años volvi a el, como voy a asimilar su ausencia? No entiendo. Sigo sin entender. Nits told me there was nothing to understand. He is a man, and men do things that are not meant to be analyzed. They are not like women. Stop analyzing and trying to give meaning to his words and actions. He is spontaneous, spur of the moment. He concluded suddenly, that second day that he did not want to see me ever again. This was only after I dragged it out of him, after more than 10 attempts to find out why he was acting as he was toward me.

--Bueno, si. Eso es: ya no mas.

--Ya no mas, que? Ya no mas quieres verme? Ya no mas ahora? Mañana? Nunca?

--No. Ya no.

--Ok.

Y entonces entendi. He had to go home and change and go to work the next day. That was probably more important to him at the time than being with me. No, don't analyze anything of why he didn't tell me before, of why he continued to talk to me and meet with me if I meant nothing to him. Don't analyze why he offered to take us back to San Luis on Wednesday when his truck was ready out of the shop. Don't analyze, simply accept it. The time had come for that closure, and it had to be this way.

cold chicago, & i defend next week

2004-11-04T20:35:00.001-08:00

finally, that dreaded and wonderful news has come: i defend my thesis next wednesday, and now i must prepare for the day. make all the changes necessary on the text, make sure graphs and formatting is correct, turn it into my advisor on Sunday so that he can have enough time to read it and drill me on it. I'm afraid & I'm grateful. One of my friends said it was a blessing to have it come so unexpectedly. I won't have too much time to dwell on it. Get it over with. Finally, GET IT OVER WITH. Get all the paperwork in, throw it up, vomit it: so sick of it.

I dream of Wednesday night. I dream of having some extra time on my hands and sleeping, and writing, and visiting family & friends. I dream of taking a long break... I had no summer this summer. I dream that after I turn this in, a small vacation will begin for me.

cold chicago, & i defend next week

2004-11-04T20:35:00.000-08:00

Cuba, bella y triste

2004-11-01T22:25:00.000-08:00

I'm back from Cuba, and it was an incredible experience. At one point, I suffered from culture shock, and began to panic. I told my friend, "What if the room is tapped?" I didn't write in my journal until I got to Mexico. Then, a few things emerged...amongst many cluttered thoughts:

Cuba is beautiful. The people are wonderful. I became nostalgic as I left the family that treated me like I was family, that provided all they could, despite difficulties, so we could be comfortable during our stay. Los Cubanos son un encanto.

But there were also many confusing moments. I felt like I was being watched. I told people I was Mexicana, instead of American. I felt I had to be careful what I did and said. I couldn't talk about "El Senhor," nobody really did. Someone disappeared while we were there. Life in Cuba is difficult for most people, I think. Everyday things can be difficult.

I loved seeing racial integration, something we don't have in the U.S. or even in Latin America: mulatos y triguenhos y negros y blancos, everyone interacting without prejudices (as far as I could see).

I need to go back to Cuba. Es raro, but once you are there you feel like you have to return... like you left something behind.

flying jitters

2004-10-20T10:31:00.000-07:00

yesterday, i tried blogging about my fear of flying, and before i could post anything, i had already lost all my writing somewhere. and i was so upset that i did not attempt to rewrite. here is basically what i wrote:

that i hate flying, that no matter how many times i fly a year, i can never get used to it; that i could not sleep well thinking of my trip to Cuba and the flying; that i wish i could sleep through the flying, especially when the turbulence is inevitable and the flying attendant and passengers seem to think nothing is going wrong despite the fact that the drinks are flying through the air as the plane (in my mind) is going down! (oh, god, i promise i will be kind to my sister & my dog...please help me); that flying is like those bad nightmares where you have no control of your actions;
it is like waiting in that long line for the rollercoaster, although i am scared out of my wits; and as the line shrinks and my turn approaches i get more nervous and i want to go the bathroom or make up an excuse to flee; and then when they finally strap you into that mechanical monster, the anticipation, the agony of those seconds as you climb the climax you are about to fall from, as you hear every sound of that track and wonder if all is well mechanically, ...And then, the fall! i regret every moment before that fall.
such is my experience of flying--that terrible regret i feel as we take off. and finally when the wheels hit the runway in some foreign land, i feel blessed to experience another survived near-death experience, and the magic and madness of a new land.

Me cai esta manhana

2004-10-13T10:55:00.000-07:00

I use my dad's old man's bike to ride my ass to the park in the mornings when possible for a walk or a run. It gives me a chance to pray, to reflect, to spend some time exercising which helps my back and other health concerns.
So I got up, con mucha flojera, knowing that once I was done w/ my jog I would feel like a million dollars, and I rode to the park. It was nice and cool outside. I love riding there and seeing how the trees are changing from when I went there during the summer. And I sometimes stop by the beautiful garden at the park to relax a bit. the usual people greeted me as they walked by.

Then, I was finally done running half hour without dying and unlocked my dad's bike. It's so old, but it's realiable, and my dad and I are sure that if someone saw the bike there without chain & lock, people would still not dare steal it. It's so ugly. Pero le tenemos mucho carinho. My father uses it to go to el mandado to the local fruteria. It used to have a basket in front where he would carry groceries, but Bruno did away w/ it. He said it made my dad look mas viejillo. (not that my dad is stylin' now without the basket!). So anyways, I unlocked the bike and was riding away, when all of a sudden the seat came completely off! and i lost my balance and landed on the cement! I scraped my knee and my hand. and I was pissed off! I got home and I told my dad to deshacerse de esa chingadera. He laughed. My mom said, how dare you say that! Just get a new seat... a mi tambien me van a querer tirar porque estoy vieja? (Happy B-day, Mommy!! Today is her day!). So, I took a shower, and when I came out my dad helped me curar my cuts w/ some cream & some curitas. I wonder what will happen to the bike de la canasta now?

viajar

2004-10-12T20:07:00.000-07:00

on saturday we finally went to see "diarios de motocicleta." although one of my motives was to see gaelito, i also wanted to know more about el che.
it was a good movie, and although i was not terribly impressed by it, i was inspired. i realized that many of us find out about our own roots later on in our life because we don't learn it in school. some of us are lucky enough to come across facts that open our eyes to the state of Latin America and our home countries. and the anger that grows from that realization is what drives us to seek some sort of justice around us.
this is what i saw in the movie. if you have a chance to see it, you won't regret the breathtaking scenery and the beginnings of che's consciousness.

...welcome, guiam fans!

2004-10-04T19:30:00.000-07:00

i imagine everyone that responded is undoubtedly an ardent guiam fan and also a member of the ILOG (international likers of guiam) club. guiam was quite pleased to find such a great response to her blog. and i must add that it is quite exciting for me, too. at any rate, this blog world will help guiam post any news on the coyote hunting business and other goodies.

on another note, i didn't go to work today. for some reason, eventhough i deny that i am stressed i still feel like i'm rushing. my heart is racing right now, as i type this thing. b/c i feel like i have a ton of things to do. & you know that this was the reason i had not started a blog or read anyone else's stuff: b/c i was too overwhelmed w/ everything else. and now that some of the stuff is out of the way, like that damned graduate class i had to teach for my advisor last week, and like the meetings w/ committee members for which i got comments back for my work... i still feel like i'm drowning. i'm sure most people can relate. but i don't want to be caught up in this madness of overworking myself and doing things too fast. in one of our "profound" conversations, bone said that living fast was like eating too fast--you don't savor the food or enjoy it. i said: that's one of the most greatest things you've ever said, bone. she was happy that i agreed. i tend to quote her (or even myself), and other common figures that happen to stumble on obvious but great analogies. so, if you find yourself rushing, like i often do: i stop and think, if i crash right now, i don't want the last thing i ever felt to be a sense of hurry to do some trivial thing.

my first one

2004-10-01T13:16:00.000-07:00

Finally...
I had been telling everyone that I would soon create a blog...y nunca se daba la ocasion. I'm at the cafe again. the ritz. Trying to get my lesson planned for tomorrow's class and daydreaming up a storm, thinking of going to Cuba and to Mexico, and thinking... trivialidades. My existential mood erupts once again, after being dormant for months. I haven't written for myself in months it seems. Thesis, classes, reports, projects, data. pure excitement, huh?

more goodies to come...