Archive for the ‘Travel’ Category

Congratulations for a hard fought victory. I am the daughter of Mexican parents. I was born in the U.S. but speak Spanish, therefore making me a Latina. Please don’t misunderstand. I love both my countries and heritage.

That said, I believe in giving credit where credit is due. I find it difficult to watch soccer (or Fußball) because of all the constant physical exertion. I can’t think of any sport that demands as much endurance and power.

This is why I have a deep sense of admiration and respect for your team. You gallantly battled and won the best in the world. This is good enough reason to raise my glass to you all and wish you well.

Herzlichen Glückwunsch Liebe deutschen, die Schlacht auf dem Feld und diejenigen, die sie anfeuern! I hope the translation is correct.
 

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As a young girl growing up the poverty-stricken neighborhoods of L.A. I dreamt of travel to interesting places. I was sure that I would never see my fantasy locations given my background.

Nonetheless, I sought out photos of New York and the Hawaiian islands. I interrogated anyone that every went there and the typical oohs and aahs followed.  

As I immersed myself in books (encyclopedias) I found my list expanding to Australia, Egypt, Cuba, UK and France. The world in general became more real to me at a young age.

So I sought out libraries, museums and gardens. My mother took me to the Huntington Library in San Marino, CA http://www.huntington.org/. They had a Japanese garden that transported my mind to beautiful classic Japan.

I actually developed a crush on King Tut and the very fictional Aladdin. It’s funny how a child’s mind works. I wonder if kids ever think this way.

When I met my husband in 1999 he took me to New York to meet his parents. I was an 8 years-old in a 39 year-old’s body for a few days. Less than a year later we were on our honeymoon in Maui.

I got to see the twin towers from the top of the Empire State building before the horror of 9/11. I got to touch a banyan tree that was living like a forest. A few years ago, we went to the island of Kauai and saw the Pacific’s mini Grand Canyon and took a boat ride on Hawaii’s only navigable river.

The 8 year-old me could never fathom such treasures in the world. I hope there are kids of all ages that feel the way I do. This way of thinking fosters wonderment, tolerance, joy and concern for the world. We all need that to avoid living in a self-imposed jail. 

 

 

 

 

Yes, I’m in that mood.  Chuckle, chuckle! I hope people laugh. Not really. I laughed already. Hee, hee.

Hey, Texas. The Inquisition called. They want their toys and humanity back.

Hey GOP. The Black (Bubonic yes, it’s a science word) Plague called. It’ll see you soon!

Hey, V. Putin. 80s Communism called. It wants you to stop pretending its the 80’s!

Hey, Democrats. The jellyfish called. They said not having a spine is no excuse for being utterly pathetic!

Hey, Obamacare. Republican voters called using a voice-changing device. They want you around … forever!

Hey, Michelle Bachmann. Hoover called. They want the vacuum in your head back.

Hey, MySpace. Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn called. They said get off the net or they’re going to put you in a hurt locker!

Hey, Gas guzzling old ass cars. Green America called. It said it will destroy you by any means necessary. So drive at your own risk!

Hey, snotty American tourists. Europe repeatedly called. They want their continent back and free from dirty American immigrants!

 

 

 

 

There are things in I wish could happen at least once in my life. Am I wrong for wanting this?

I want ALL WOMEN to stop calling themselves females. The word female is an adjective not a noun! It describes. Example: Female doctor, female officer, female cat. Got it?

I want every Jehovah Witness to have their doorbell incessantly rung by conversion-seeking Muslims, Sikhs, Jews and Catholics (preferably Irish Catholics … they don’t play).

I want IRS agents to get obscenely audited. I mean go all the way back to their McDonald’s gig!

I want every mayor in America to ride the bus for two weeks, one in the summer and one in the dead of winter.

I want every slumlord in America to be sentenced to 30 days in a Tijuana or Cuidad Juarez barrio. I know it’s in Mexico but this is my wish list.

I want the head of TSA, Homeland Security and U.S. Customs to stand in line at the airport or cross the border with all the appropriate documentation.

I want a better mental healthcare system that prevents homeless vets and mass shootings. Most prisons are ridiculously housing the mentally ill and then spitting them into the street with a few pills!

I want every member of the NRA and their political whores to assist in performing the autopsies of every innocent child killed by gun violence.

I want every single sex offender to be sentenced to following: publicly (high traffic area) made to wear a sandwich board listing his crimes for 24 hours. The rest of his sentence can be served in general population.

Lastly, I want to find a way to forgive the selfish, arrogant, bigoted and heartless people in the world. I know that can included myself in that list. Please forgive me, God.

 

The Price

Posted: May 17, 2014 in America, Life, Politics, Religion, Society, Travel
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Every now and again I think about life. I think about the price we all pay for living (or not living) the way we want.  I doubt that most people really think about such things.

Young lovers have a baby. They want to keep the baby. Young dad gets a job, gets drunk, fights with baby’s momma …. everything goes to hell. It’s a sad cliché, but there are worse things. Wealth is worse.

When one is wealthy one worries a lot. Security – money, property, gold diggers and who’s going to sue you next! Your mansion becomes a fortress. Therefore making everyone who lives in it a prisoner.

What do prisoners do when they get out of jail? Everything wrong, scandalous and destructive. Then you go through the merry-go-round rehab ride. I know, but it might happen.

What if your wealth is based on a legal but immoral policy? What if your stellar employees have to work a second or third job to make ends meet? It’s the elephant in the board room that everyone’s afraid to talk about. And you join in the silence.

A badly needed raise is explained away in your Christian head. But you know it will not effect your lifestyle in any way, shape or form. Why do you act like this and then criticize how the poor live. Why?

And in the end your slightly unstable relatives will get the lion share of your money. A few charities will be lucky to get some. Perhaps your servants will be blessed with your table scraps. In less than a year after your death no one will utter your name. I could be wrong, but does it happen?

I have always known what financial class I’d like to be in. Middle class to barely rich would suit me fine. No mansions, servants,  exotic cars, high-end shopping or first class travel for me.

I want two cars, one rugged and one adorable. I want a quaint cozy home. I want a housekeeper that works side by side with me. I will be kind, affectionate and respectful to her. And I will absolutely be there for her.

When I travel it will be modestly. Eat and hang out with the locals. This is the way we should be. HUMAN. My religion is Non-judgment Christian with an itch for humanity.  Fortunately I have a loving husband who’s on board with my philosophy.

Wealth isn’t always a bad thing, of course. I guess I just hear things on CNN, MSNBC and all those other letters vying for my attention. Greed is a cancer, virus, plague delivered in a shit bomb. Head for your Eddie Bauer / LL Bean designed bunker!

 

 

I’m one of those people who like to observe and report. I report to myself, this blog, my loved ones and even strangers. In doing this, I keep this observe and report wheel going.

If you’ve followed my blog you know I talk about myself quite a bit. I do this for therapy, vanity, attention and in hopes that I will fill my own void (once I find that damn void).

Right now, my question to my subject is : Who are you? My subject is me, of course. Who am I ? I am so many things to many people.

I look deep into myself and ask a shitty question. Who am I to myself? What role do I play in my own life? Too introspective? Probably, but I’m in that mood again.

Do I let things happen to me or am I the driving force? I am the driving force when I harness the energy and stubbornness. When I’m weak, anyone can run over me. Is that a bipolar answer or a human one? Maybe both.

How about my core identity? Woman, Latina, bipolar, wife, daughter … lots to choose from. It’s staring me in the face. I am a writer. I am a lover of words, mine and others.

I can drop all those other titles, even though I love them. My egotistical nature drives me to want immortality. The written word doesn’t die and suits me just fine.

I write poorly, brilliantly, honestly, dishonestly, playfully and darkly. I write to survive humanity and my own wacky ideas. I write for the sake of travel. I send my words out into the world like doves. In that moment, a small part of me is teleported.

Even the old school literature is magical. Every library I’ve ever been to since I was 7 or 8 years old, has moved me. The smell of old and new books, tables, chairs and the sea of humanity claiming their spot. For me, it’s church.

This writer has written too much and gone all over the blogger’s map. That said, I’m selfishly glad.

 

I want to talk about people and things I treasure with all my heart. At this moment, I need to swim in the goodness of my world.

First, I love Our Father in Heaven. He has saved me many times and in many ways. I am not worthy of His love, but He gives it to me anyway.

I love my husband. He is my best friend. I admire him on so many levels. Referring to him as my husband, fills my heart with pride and joy.

My mother, siblings and the rest of my family are quirky, silly, a little crazy and constantly under construction. They are also people of the heart. Thus making them good people.

My beloved friends are a potpourri of humanity. Democrats, Republicans, Black, White, Latinos,  Asians, Christian, Jews, Muslims ….. and then there are my online bloggers all over the globe. I love them so much!

I love the free things in life:  full moon, giggling children, dancing in my office chair to 70s music, coffee in the morning, plucking my facial hair, warm flannel pajamas, thunder lightning rain storm and the smell in the air after its gone.

I love that I can see the world without hopping a plane. And I love that one day I will hop a plane and see a lot more world.

I love that I am free to express myself as a woman, Latina and citizen of my country. My heart aches for the ladies who can not express themselves freely.

I love the existence of kindness, tenderness, honor, humor and humanity.  I am a firm believer in the mantra there is more good than bad.

Redeeming traits live everywhere. And no one collects that data or establishes statistics on those souls. But you shouldn’t trust me. I’m a 44-year-old, bipolar Latina from the barrio. What do I know?

 

 

 

Lately, I’ve been internalizing a lot of the wrong that occurs in the world. This isn’t good since I can’t fix the world. My disgust is rather pointless. Plus, it’s harmful to me.

So, I’m going to reflect on the wonderful things I’ve witnessed in my life. Even now, I am astonished at how or why I was able to experience such beauty.  My start in life was poverty and it stayed that way for most of my life.

That said, anything that was free and beautiful in Los Angeles was experienced by me. My mother made sure of that. I went to museums, rose gardens, Japanese gardens, tide pools on the beach and lovely parks.

My first real opera was Georges Bizet’s Carmen. I was in awe of Carmen, of course. After the opera, the actors/singers joined the patrons.

Without even thinking, I rushed up to the lead mezzo-soprano who played Carmen and told her she was beautiful and amazing. My mother came behind me and apologized for my rudeness.

My opera goddess gave me a hug and a kiss. Then she proceeded to introduce me to the cast. I was dizzy with sensory overload. I was between 8 and 10 years old when this glorious event occurred.

I have been to several museums in my life and most have truly humbled me. Still, there is just one painting at The Getty Center in Los Angeles at connects with me deeply.

Portrait of Leonilla, Princess of Sayn-Wittgenstein-Sayn by Franz Winterhalter is a bold and brazen portrait of a woman in charge. Sadly, the Getty won’t let me publicize it. So click to the link below.

http://www.getty.edu/art/gettyguide/artObjectDetails?artobj=910

I have always loved history, preferably world history. My childish mental time travel reached back to medieval Europe and ancient Egypt, Rome and Greek.

I saw museum artifacts as physical bits of history. The thought of objects surviving hundreds of years amazes me to this day. Man can create wonderful things and just as easily destroy it.

Thankfully, there are places in the world that live on genuine kindness, joy and peace. I have been to places in Mexico, Hawaii and elsewhere that reaffirm my faith in humanity. I think that is worth more than all the museums combined.

 

 

 

I took a side trip into yesterday today. This trip had a few twists and turns literally and otherwise. My husband and I drove through East L.A. to get to my niece’s birthday party this afternoon.

Los Angeles has a very old and confusing freeway system and we took the wrong off-ramp. I wasn’t worried. We’re very good at being lost logically. All we had to do was backtrack and find the freeway entrance. We found a lot more.

After a few rights and lefts, we turned on Euclid Ave and there was my first elementary school! Pure serendipity! I was floored! I must have said Oh my God about a million times. But we still needed to get to the party.

We got there before my brother, his new wife, my nephew and niece showed up. This was the first interaction with my new sister-in-law since the wedding. I was curious to see if my brother had learned his lesson about how to treat his wife. Sadly, the answer is not really.

He is the eternal antagonist. He rudely talked over his wife. He made the afternoon about himself and his European honeymoon that was highlighted with business and economy interrogations of the locals! Wow! Sounds like super romantic!

My husband (always the fixer) redirected the conversation quite a bit and brought up our East L.A. detour. As usual, my brother had to argue about the directions! God forbid that he just concede to anything. When I asked if there is anything Americans can learn from Europeans, my brother proclaimed NO. He said Europeans want to be more like us. Bullshit came to mind.

My brother proceeded with his antagonistic ways through the gift openings and I was set to go after hugs and kisses from the kids. My husband and I retraced our steps and drove by my old school and my old house on Bernal.

It hit me like a brick. This was house I lived in where I was a Chicana, like everybody else. This is was my barrio instead of a neighborhood. Climbed up and ran down steep hills. It looks so much smaller now, but it moves me.

Unplugged

Posted: October 4, 2013 in America, Family, Friendship, Fun, Life, Music, Society, Travel
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I was having a great conversation with a good friend yesterday. We were talking about technology that is so ingrained into our lives like computers, DVRs, iPods and so on. I asked her if she could imagine life without those things . To my surprise, she said yes.

We had this conversation after watching the movie Once. The movie had many examples of human interaction in the purest forms and the music was a driving force. There’s nothing like listening to Irish musicians. It felt like it wasn’t even acting. My friend referred to the fact that the characters interacted quite well without all the bells and whistles of modern technology. She was very right.

I had forgotten that I once lived in a gadget-free world. At first I was bored, but later I saw the beauty of this electronic void. I fell in love with the art of conversation and quiet observation. More people need to learn both. There’s too much oral diarrhea going on in the world from people who refuse to see the truth.

Whenever I travel, I (mostly) shed the gadgetry skin. I focus on the peace and happiness of my journey. I think about all the people who are interwoven in this adventure tapestry, from my car buddy husband to the hotel reception girl. My goal is simply. I wish to embrace the foreign sounds and views with no expectations.

The best times I ever had in my life (not always on vacation) were very organic and intimate.  It felt safe, silly and deeply moving. I think when you make that sort of connection everything about you gets renewed. For me, my heart fills up with a very selfish giddiness and I gladly drop all insecurities.  By the way, my hangout time with my friend took me to a place I was grateful be in.