I demand justice

Amidst the World Cup and Presidential Election debate, Mexico has dropped a causa that is very near and dear to me. It’s pretty pathetic that people’s last hope is Hollywood. Please, if you have not, sign the petition.


La Footnotes aka mi ama

Mi ama has spent most of her life using the bus as her main source of transportation. This enabled her to do one of her favorite things: talk. Mi ama will talk to anyone about anything.

I remember being at a bus stop or on the bus and mi ama striking up various conversations with people, from the lady who was counting “penes” for bus fare downtown to the young girl who was working in the U.S. illegally and looking to marry for a green card.

Calling her is a one hour event. First, she asks how I’m doing, then I ask her, and then it begins. I hear all about the adult day care events, family events or wrongdoings, celebrity gossip (telenovela soap stars who I don’t really know, sometimes she has music gossip about La Julie Venegas or A.B. Quintanilla), y luego vuelta al cassette o la bendicion.

One of the most comical aspects of conversation con mi ama is the footnotes. When I still lived at home, she used to drive me nuts with her uncanny ability to provide footnotes to every story. At the time, I was still really young (because I’m still young you know, but not really young) and I don’t think I had completely developed my critical thinking skills; therefore, I was unable to follow non-linear conversations. Sometimes, with a frustrated tone, I would say, “Go back to the original story!” She would oblige, with hurt feelings.

It wasn’t until I went away to college that I learned to entertain her footnotes and coined her the nickname La Footnotes. I learned the value of being able to tell one story, the fill in with some much needed information, and still know where one had left off in the original story. Heck, I was reading texts with half a page of footnotes that weren’t nearly as entertaining as my ama’s. Besides, sometimes the footnotes provide even better stories or a point of reference for further inquiry about my ama’s unbounded wisdom.



One of my Godmother’s favorite songs was Black Sabbath’s Changes. I acquired a cd with that song a couple years after she died, and it soon became one of my favorites. This last week has certainly seen many changes.

For one, I don’t have a trip to look forward to. We got back from El Paso on early Sunday morning (12:30 am). Although it’s always difficult to leave, this time seemed more difficult than usual. The time I spent there was so relaxing. We did what we wanted to do. We went where we wanted to go, when we wanted to go. I was able to help out my mom with some things she had to do, and the best part was just handing out. Every evening at 7:30 pm, we would hang out in her room to watch La fea más bella. Afterwards, we would work on her crafts or sit around and watch TV until she fell asleep.

Going to my dad’s grave was really sad this time too. Dan the Man went with me and took a picture of him headstone. He insisted on my squatting next to it, but for some reason, I couldn’t do it. Taking pictures of such things just isn’t something my mom ever condoned. Maybe it wore off on me.

As I said earlier, leaving was quite difficult. My mom was really sad that we were coming back, and that’s what made it the hardest. Seeing the way she was leaning on the wrought iron guardrail watching the car drive away from her was so difficult. I was glad when I called her from San Antonio to learn that she had gone out to eat with one of her friends. When I called her last night, her friends were over at her apartment visiting, so that was good news. But I still have this empty feeling, the same kind of feeling I had when Dan the Man and I were doing the LDR.

The other changes that have occurred are at work. There’s been a lot of shuffling around at work. Some people have left, and others have moved to another grade, one of them being my mentor. She will be teaching 7th grade next year. She gave me this news over the phone when I was in El Paso, as well as the news that I was recommended to teach the GT/Pre-AP Language Arts class. I have mixed emotions about it, but overall, I welcome the challenge.

Also, when I checked my work e-mail, I found out that I will be mentoring the new 6th grade LA teacher. She has a Latino surname and I’m wondering if this is the reason we were paired up. I’m really looking forward to meeting her.

In the early pre-school staff events letter, we were given a list of all of the changes. Being the way I am, I counted all the Latino names, there are six. That makes a grand total of 12 Latino faculty members. I wonder if any of this has anything to do with the new principal.

I’m not eager for the year to start, but I know it’s inevitable. People tell me that it will be much easier, and I have a hunch they’re right.


The Bandit

I always considered myself a dog person. I liked cats, but they weren’t my favorite. They seemed distant and I hated how they got up on the kitchen counters and left hair everywhere. While I lived at my sister’s they acquired a cat. She is quite the character, a very classy young lady.

Dan the Man, despite allergies, is a cat lover. When we got a place on our own, he kept hinting about getting a cat. I wasn’t all that interested because I didn’t want the responsibility. One day, I was won over by our little guy, Bandit.

It was he who made the first move. While looking around at the Pet's Mart adoption center, he began pawing at my pants. He was quite the persistent little fellow. He didn't stop until I squatted down and began petting him. Then he tried to get me to open the cage. Clearly, he had devised a system to get out of the cage. It was evident that he was good at it since his was the only cage with cardboard covering any large openings. Despite his allergies and want of a kitten, Dan the Man agreed to adopt him.

When we brought him home, he was ve
ry scared. He ran and hid under the kitchen table and wouldn't come out. I read all of the literature they gave us about bringing home a new cat and put his food bowls near him and the kitty litter, in sight, but far away from his food. Although it took him some time, he finally felt comfortable to let it all hang out. One of his favorite positions to sleep in is on his back. From an aerial view, he looks like he's standing. He'll sleep like this practically anywhere. His favorite spot to lie on his back is in front of the window on a sunny day. ¡Gato tenía que ser!

However, his favorite places to sleep are in bed, particularly between Dan the Man and I. I think they're both going to have withdrawals this coming week since Dan the Man and I will be leaving to El Paso el sábado en la madrugada. Its evi
dent, that he loves no other more than his dad.


No Title

I’ve thought about updating a lot, and I even had titles and entries all ready in my head…I just never made it to the computer. I guess now that I am here; I can touch on all of the subjects I wanted to blog about.

Friday, Dan the Man, my niece, her bf, and I went to see Pirates of the Caribbean and had dinner. I tried to be as pleasant as possible to her bf. I can’t stand the guy. He acts like such a jerk at times. He can be condescending. I really didn’t like him referring to her as “my tard.” He also made fun on me when I said “punch buggie” and because I got a Lonestar. That’s strike number three. The first one was when he tried to explain to me what a graduate degree is. Idiot. My niece knows how I feel about him, but I try to be amiable because of her.

Saturday, I invited my friend MT over for lunch because she’d never really been to my apartment. Actually, the only people who have actually been here besides Dan the Man’s friend with the exasperating wife are my sis and her hubby. Anyway, I told her I’d make shrimp po’ boys because she likes them and I wanted to try out the recipe. Since the closing of Randalls down the street, Kroger thinks they’re the “fancy” supermarket; this is evident in their prices. So I went a little further to Fiesta. I love shopping at Fiesta’s, especially in predominately Latino areas because they play Spanish music, the workers speak Spanish, and they have a huge variety of reasonably priced items. The best part is that I can listen to La Raza with my windows rolled down and not get strange looks.

Yesterday, I made some more Mujeres de Juárez shirts. I never realized how much time I spend on making them. It took me about two and a half hours to make six. I realized this because it was while I was trying to watch my novella, La Fea Más Bella. Also, I made el coraje del año. When I was leaving the gym, for some reason, I walked around the back of my car. When I did, I noticed that some punk ass wrote “BK” on my car in old English lettering with blue marker of some kind. I was so upset. Fortunately, I was able to get it off. Still, I’m seething over it. I can’t believe how disrespectful people are. I think it was done at our apartment complex by one of the little punk kids that hang out with our neighbor. I’m so glad that our lease is up in a couple of months. For now, I’m parking my car in front of my apartment so I can keep an eye on it. I think Dan the Man kept an eye on it last night.