2010 has been an interesting year for me. I feel as if I’ve had this sudden realization of what is going on in my life and what I want to do. I guess nothing brings you closer to that other than two hospital visits haha!! I’ve experienced an epiphany earlier this year that I’ve kept to myself because it’s too delicate for me to dissect and I’m not ready to do that or explain it just yet. I’ve reflected a lot on myself as whole person and have tried constant daily changes to commit to a change in my life that needs to be done. My daily struggles are still present but I feel like I’ve worked on them this year more than ever before. That’s why I somehow feel that I’m slowly developing into the person I want to and deserve to be. I’ve been able to pin point my faults and recognize them and the negative effects they have on my life. I’ve always believed that no one can move on with their life unless they know what it is what they need to move past from. And I feel like I’ve done that a lot this year. I wasn’t necessary looking for it, but I feel as if it was a path in my life that was crossed in fate (which is a whole other story because my theory in fate is unbalanced). I have felt an unspoken pressure about something with family and friends and maybe even some co-workers that remain silent for the sake of my feelings. But I know what it is and I appreciate the silence more than ever.
I’m nowhere near in my life now where I thought I would be ten years ago and have no one to blame that on but myself. I forgot what movie I heard this cheesy line from but I think it makes complete and total sense: “I have a vision of how I want my life to be. But life doesn’t care about that vision. Life goes on with or without your plans.” It makes sense to me because 10 years ago I never thought I’d be where I am today. I never thought I’d be working for the same company for the past 5 years - which is a blessing on its own and I feel very fortunate to have this job, but then again ten years ago I never thought I’d still be struggling with money (not that my job doesn’t pay me well because they do, it’s just my spending habits that I need to control in order to prevent money trouble), I never thought I’d still be perusing higher education, I never thought I’d still be living in California. I thought maybe by now I’d be working on my PhD. Or a famous singer/songwriter haha!!
If there’s anything that I’ve learned in my 27 and half years of life, it’s that the decisions you make each day is always the occurring domino affect of your present life. Each and every day we make decisions that come so natural to us. Especially when we choose the easy way out. But it’s those “easy way outs” that make you wonder about the “what if I chose this instead” moments. How could your life have been different if you chose the other option that day? What could have been different? And so I often ask myself that question all the time about everything. From school, to family, to lost ones, to the tiniest things that probably don’t matter to anyone else but myself. What if I had moved to L.A. to pursue singing instead of going to college? What if I moved to a foreign country to work right after I graduated college like I wanted to? What if I had pursued a relationship with that sweet man who told me he loved me? What if I gave him a chance? Would I have been married and had children by now?
Wondering about all of this initially makes me realize that in order to stick to my future plans, I must stick to the present ones. The further I push things away, the further they get out of reach. I’m not one to make New Year resolutions, but if I were to make one, it would be to do something meaningful every single day that would benefit me in my present and future life. Something that challenges me and something that will always benefit me now and later. I want my 2011 to be the year where I find my calling. And I think I got a hint of that from conversations with my friends and a Mr. Tom Sweeney, who I work with at my current job at Patriot Scientific. I don’t remember how this discussion came about but I had hesitantly decided to go back to school to earn a credential to become a high school English teacher focusing on writing. His response was “I think you would be perfect for that.” We continued to talk about the difficulties many ESL students go through and being that I grew up speaking Spanish and being in ESL programs throughout my elementary school years, students would really benefit me as their teacher since having to relate with their struggles. I was hesitant before, but now I’m convinced more than ever that this is what I should be doing. I remember working as a “writing consultant” for CSUSM’s writing center as part of an internship with a graduate course I took in my senior year. During my time there, I was surprised to see so many students struggling with their writing and I kept wondering to myself “how is it that you’re in college and don’t know how to write?” So I decided to be that stepping stone for students. I want to be the teacher that prepares them. So this is my goal for 2011. I still eventually want to earn a master’s, maybe even a PhD, but I think this will set my path in that direction. I also still want to work abroad and teach in foreign countries and live their cultures, but this is my first step.
So now that I have my goal set for 2011, let me highlight my 2010 year in review. The good. The bad. And the ugly!!
2010 Year In Review!
The Good
March:
Mari’s Birthday in Vegas. Enough said.
May:
My birthday. Every year I have so many family and friends that gather around me to celebrate my life. I am forever grateful for these people who mean so much to me.
June:
The move. I had so much help from all my closest friends who helped me move into my new place. I seriously couldn’t have done it without all of you.
My Roommate Felipe. A heart with legs and feet! I never knew this kind of person existed. I am so in love with the kind of person he is.
October:
Diego is born!! One of the many loves of my life!!
All Year Round:
My family and friends for always being there for me.
The Bad
March:
Found out I have a problem with my thyroid and have to take medication that makes me dizzy and nauseous.
Car got impounded due to expired tags, which led to being pulled over, which led to cop telling me my license was suspended, which led to an unpaid speeding ticket I had completely forgot about from the year before. Everything ended up costing over $1,500 dollars to get my car back. I had no idea how I was going to do it until I talked to my bosses at work and they advanced me the money to help. I tell you!! I have angels surrounding me!!
July:
Hospitalized. Article can be read here: http://chenasblog.blogspot.com/2010/08/ewww-what-is-that-should-i-go-to.html
December:
Food poisoning for the first time ever and hopefully the last. Enough said.
All Year Round:
Money. Always chasing the next paycheck. But not for long. New financial plan is set to prevent such stresses. Plan is on for paying back my sisters and mom for all their help in this next coming year of 2011. Thanks for all your help.
The Ugly
October – November:
Heartbreak. I forget how fragile the center beating drum in my chest is when you allow yourself to give in to someone. Mutual thoughts were discussed for keeping it casual to prevent heartbreak. But you proceed without caution when you fall for all the beautiful words he says only to pull the rug right from underneath you falling and hitting the floor hard. I don’t think I’ve ever cried this much over anyone ever. And as mad as I was, I wish I hadn’t cried as much because he doesn’t deserve my tears. This time thinking it could be different only to end up the same as last year. Except for this time, I foolishly thought it’d be different. This time it could work. This time he was serious. This time………….he did it again. The funny thing about heartbreak is that when it doesn’t happen to you, you don’t think about it or anything related to that matter. But when it happens, you realize how lonely you are and all you want is for that person to come back. So you choose to move on with the daily reminder that you are alone. Everyday you think to yourself that you’re alone and you feel incredibly lonely. You may have friends and family around you but they won’t ever fulfill the part in your soul that he placed and took away. I remember saying to myself during this time “I wish I lived in a love song.” Because when the song ends, it just repeats. No room for the heartbreak. In particular it would be “Dime Mi Amor” by Pedro Fernandez. I could live forever in that song. But then again, heartbreaks can be good when they inspire beautiful poetry.
All in all it was an incredible year to say the least. I take away a greater sense of who I am and what I want to accomplish. It’s better than being a lost soul haha!! Say “I love you” like you’ve never said it before. Hug longer than you’ve ever hugged before. Smile to strangers, you never know it might make their day. And don’t forget your “please” and “thank you’s.” From me to you: Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!! Thanks for reading!!
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Ka Ka Ka Karma!!!
I’ve been wanting to write an article about Karma for a while, but I decided to hold off on it to really analyze and observe the world around me applying Karma to my life. My common sense definition of Karma is “What goes around comes around.” But to my surprise and recent research, I found out Karma is an Indian religious concept. Not only that, but it also has several definitions.
One definition of Karma is the concept of action or deed, understood as that which causes the entire cycle of cause and effect. It originated in ancient India and treated in Hindu, Jain, Buddhist, and Sikh philosophies.
Also, Karma is in contradistinction to faith advocated by Abrahamic religions such as Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, which view all human dramas as the will of God as opposed to present and past life actions. If practicing Karma in Hinduism beliefs, people have free will to choose good or evil and suffer the consequences, which require the will of God to implement Karma’s consequences. If practicing Karma in Indian beliefs, the Karmic effects of all deeds are viewed as actively shaping past, present, and future experiences.
Here are a few Karma quotes I came across in my research:
“O youth or young man, who fancy that you are neglected by the gods, know that if you become worse, you shall go to worse souls, or if better to the better… In every succession of life and death, you will do and suffer what like may fitly suffer at the hands of like. This is the justice of heaven.” ~ Plato
“Thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.” ~ William Shakespeare
“Men may not get all they pay for in this world; but they must certainly pay for all they get.” ~ Frederick Douglas
“I'm a true believer in karma. You get what you give, whether it's bad or good.” ~ Sandra Bullock
My own personal belief in Karma is: “Do good. Then good things happen. Do bad. Then bad things happen.” ~ Me!
But then it got me wondering. Bad things happen to people all the time whether they do good things or not. If you are always good, does that mean that something bad happene
d to you because of something you maybe did in your past life? Do you believe in a past life? Or if you did something bad, do you keep in the back of your mind to track it and count that towards the Bad Karma you’ll probably receive in the future? If I live my life (the only life that I know of and the only life I have ever had) believing in Good Karma and doing good things left and right for the sake of only having Good Karma returned to me, does that mean I’m going to wonder like crazy and back track what bad thing I did to deserve Bad Karma if or when it hits me? Hmmm……Interesting……
I’m not so sure I believe my own Karma definition after all. But I will say this: Long ago in my trouble-some days in high school, I remember I stole a lipstick from a Rite Aid store because I didn’t want to pay for it. I had the money, but I didn’t want to pay for it. A few days later, my car wouldn’t turn on. Bad Karma? No, it couldn’t be. A couple months later, I saw a really expensive mascara I wanted and stole that too. A week later…….my car needed a new alternator. Bad Karma? Yea right!! Not too long after that I ran out of powder make up so I saw a nice one at Rite Aid and stole it too. What happened to my car? It needed a new starter!! Bad Karma? Um……yes I started to believe it was. I remember telling Andrea this “I can’t steal anymore make up.” She asked laughing “Why?” I said “Cause I can’t afford to fix my car anymore.”
I’m not so sure if my car breaking down after I would steal make up was the true calling of Bad Karma, but I do know that I don’t want to mess with it. And because it’s wrong to steal! Duh!! But I do believe that if you surround yourself with good things and good people, that good things will happen. Otherwise, why are they good? Good comes from good and bad comes from bad. It’s as simple as that. I’m very blessed to have good all around me with my friends and family. They are around me because I put them there and because I want them there. I can easily abandon everyone and I know I would fall apart without them. I cherish and appreciate each friendship and every bond I have with my family. Even if I’m 200 miles to 2 million miles away, they are my Good Karma. Do you believe in it? So let me leave you with an oldie but a goodie: “Treat others how you wish to be treated” because "Karma is a Bitch!" Thanks for reading!
One definition of Karma is the concept of action or deed, understood as that which causes the entire cycle of cause and effect. It originated in ancient India and treated in Hindu, Jain, Buddhist, and Sikh philosophies.
Also, Karma is in contradistinction to faith advocated by Abrahamic religions such as Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, which view all human dramas as the will of God as opposed to present and past life actions. If practicing Karma in Hinduism beliefs, people have free will to choose good or evil and suffer the consequences, which require the will of God to implement Karma’s consequences. If practicing Karma in Indian beliefs, the Karmic effects of all deeds are viewed as actively shaping past, present, and future experiences.
Here are a few Karma quotes I came across in my research:
“O youth or young man, who fancy that you are neglected by the gods, know that if you become worse, you shall go to worse souls, or if better to the better… In every succession of life and death, you will do and suffer what like may fitly suffer at the hands of like. This is the justice of heaven.” ~ Plato
“Thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.” ~ William Shakespeare
“Men may not get all they pay for in this world; but they must certainly pay for all they get.” ~ Frederick Douglas
“I'm a true believer in karma. You get what you give, whether it's bad or good.” ~ Sandra Bullock
My own personal belief in Karma is: “Do good. Then good things happen. Do bad. Then bad things happen.” ~ Me!
But then it got me wondering. Bad things happen to people all the time whether they do good things or not. If you are always good, does that mean that something bad happene
d to you because of something you maybe did in your past life? Do you believe in a past life? Or if you did something bad, do you keep in the back of your mind to track it and count that towards the Bad Karma you’ll probably receive in the future? If I live my life (the only life that I know of and the only life I have ever had) believing in Good Karma and doing good things left and right for the sake of only having Good Karma returned to me, does that mean I’m going to wonder like crazy and back track what bad thing I did to deserve Bad Karma if or when it hits me? Hmmm……Interesting……I’m not so sure I believe my own Karma definition after all. But I will say this: Long ago in my trouble-some days in high school, I remember I stole a lipstick from a Rite Aid store because I didn’t want to pay for it. I had the money, but I didn’t want to pay for it. A few days later, my car wouldn’t turn on. Bad Karma? No, it couldn’t be. A couple months later, I saw a really expensive mascara I wanted and stole that too. A week later…….my car needed a new alternator. Bad Karma? Yea right!! Not too long after that I ran out of powder make up so I saw a nice one at Rite Aid and stole it too. What happened to my car? It needed a new starter!! Bad Karma? Um……yes I started to believe it was. I remember telling Andrea this “I can’t steal anymore make up.” She asked laughing “Why?” I said “Cause I can’t afford to fix my car anymore.”
I’m not so sure if my car breaking down after I would steal make up was the true calling of Bad Karma, but I do know that I don’t want to mess with it. And because it’s wrong to steal! Duh!! But I do believe that if you surround yourself with good things and good people, that good things will happen. Otherwise, why are they good? Good comes from good and bad comes from bad. It’s as simple as that. I’m very blessed to have good all around me with my friends and family. They are around me because I put them there and because I want them there. I can easily abandon everyone and I know I would fall apart without them. I cherish and appreciate each friendship and every bond I have with my family. Even if I’m 200 miles to 2 million miles away, they are my Good Karma. Do you believe in it? So let me leave you with an oldie but a goodie: “Treat others how you wish to be treated” because "Karma is a Bitch!" Thanks for reading!
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
For The Love of the Game
As I grow older and I see many of my classmates begin to move on with their lives and begin new chapters, I can’t help but wonder if I’m doing the same. I may not be moving in the same way they are, but I am moving on.
…..……….I think.
This past weekend, my best friend of 15 years, Andrea, came to visit to celebrate Halloween and her birthday as it falls on that holiday. Every year, my friends and I gather together in our best costumes and head out to Downtown San Diego for a little bar hopping. This year was just as fun as the ones before, however, I had a conversation with Andrea that struck a cord of curiosity. We were talking about having her move back to Oceanside (which I always try to convince her of because I miss her so much) but she is set on staying in Brawley. She tells me it’s time for her to grow up.
I didn’t take offense to what she said, but it got me thinking about my life and what I’m doing. Am I having too much fun? Do I need to settle down already? I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: I don’t desire marriage nor do I desire having children. But I won’t say “never” because I believe there is a slight chance that one day the right kind of love will change my mind about everything. I believe it’s out there but I’ve never had it. The kind of love that blinds you and changes your whole world around. The kind of love that gives you a new perspective on life. The kind of love that alters your beliefs. The kind of love that not only makes you a better person but keeps you the same as you always were. And when you have it, you just know it’s going to last forever. That’s the kind of love that I’m hopeful for, but for now, I’m just having fun being me and weighing out the contestants.
And even if I never get it, I think I would still be hopeful for it because I’ve seen it with my sisters and with my parents. Even if I die at 100 years old without that love, I’ll always be hopeful for it. But I’ll never be waiting for it. I refuse to wait for it. Why would I? Why am I going to wait for something that might never happen? Imagine if I wait my entire life for that kind of love to happen, how much time I would waste. I want to do things for me, not for the person that could be with me. I want to plan and live my life according to me, and if it so happens that I meet someone along the way, then great!! But for now, I’m going to do what is best for me. And that is accomplish everything that I wish to accomplish. I want to pay off my debts, travel, teach in different countries, live in different countries, earn a masters, earn a PhD, write novels, write songs, write poetry, play my piano, play my dad’s guitar, sing all my songs, perform all my songs anywhere and everywhere, and sing everyday for the rest of my life. Ok so I already do that last one pretty much every day; however, I don’t want to be one of those people who wait around for love to come. Love doesn’t and shouldn’t control your life. Yes, it’s great if you find it and have it early on in your life like it happens to many people, but if you don’t have it now, then why waste your time waiting for it when you could be living your life to the fullest.
And while the trials and tribulations of dating can be harsh, I know that maybe someday that love will come. I have to feel that all the bull shit many people go through with the whole dating scene and the games people play is going to have to be worth it one day. Games like where someone will keep a person at an arm’s reach so that they don’t get too close nor get too far but just there enough to get you whenever they want. Or the repetitive pattern of “I’m sorry, it was a mistake. Come back. I’m sorry, it was a mistake. Come back.” I’ve seen it happen too many times with my friends and with myself. The player may think we don’t know the game, but we all do. We just have to be smart and strong enough not to fall for it. And it’s hard not to fall for it when it makes you feel so important and so wanted. It’s just like my friend said: “It’s a game where they make you feel so good that you feel like you’re flying and just when you’re about to touch the sky, they cut your wings and you fall hard getting hurt when you hit the ground. They apologize and say it was a mistake. But then do it to you again and you continue to fall for it.”
Sometimes I think that I am too hopeful for this kind of love to come into my life. Sometimes I feel like I get too hopeful to the point where maybe I have too high expectations. But I honestly would rather have high expectations, even if it dissapoints me when/if it doesn't work out, than to go into anything with a pessimistic attitude. I'd rather be hopeful than expect the least in someone. Why would anyone want to try anything expecting the least from someone? I'll always be the eternal optimist. Even in my darkest hour.
With all that said, I move on. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because I care too much about myself to let anyone or anything hurt me. Because my life is in my control. And because one day all my dreams will come true.
One day……
Thanks for reading :o)
…..……….I think.
This past weekend, my best friend of 15 years, Andrea, came to visit to celebrate Halloween and her birthday as it falls on that holiday. Every year, my friends and I gather together in our best costumes and head out to Downtown San Diego for a little bar hopping. This year was just as fun as the ones before, however, I had a conversation with Andrea that struck a cord of curiosity. We were talking about having her move back to Oceanside (which I always try to convince her of because I miss her so much) but she is set on staying in Brawley. She tells me it’s time for her to grow up.
I didn’t take offense to what she said, but it got me thinking about my life and what I’m doing. Am I having too much fun? Do I need to settle down already? I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: I don’t desire marriage nor do I desire having children. But I won’t say “never” because I believe there is a slight chance that one day the right kind of love will change my mind about everything. I believe it’s out there but I’ve never had it. The kind of love that blinds you and changes your whole world around. The kind of love that gives you a new perspective on life. The kind of love that alters your beliefs. The kind of love that not only makes you a better person but keeps you the same as you always were. And when you have it, you just know it’s going to last forever. That’s the kind of love that I’m hopeful for, but for now, I’m just having fun being me and weighing out the contestants.
And even if I never get it, I think I would still be hopeful for it because I’ve seen it with my sisters and with my parents. Even if I die at 100 years old without that love, I’ll always be hopeful for it. But I’ll never be waiting for it. I refuse to wait for it. Why would I? Why am I going to wait for something that might never happen? Imagine if I wait my entire life for that kind of love to happen, how much time I would waste. I want to do things for me, not for the person that could be with me. I want to plan and live my life according to me, and if it so happens that I meet someone along the way, then great!! But for now, I’m going to do what is best for me. And that is accomplish everything that I wish to accomplish. I want to pay off my debts, travel, teach in different countries, live in different countries, earn a masters, earn a PhD, write novels, write songs, write poetry, play my piano, play my dad’s guitar, sing all my songs, perform all my songs anywhere and everywhere, and sing everyday for the rest of my life. Ok so I already do that last one pretty much every day; however, I don’t want to be one of those people who wait around for love to come. Love doesn’t and shouldn’t control your life. Yes, it’s great if you find it and have it early on in your life like it happens to many people, but if you don’t have it now, then why waste your time waiting for it when you could be living your life to the fullest.
And while the trials and tribulations of dating can be harsh, I know that maybe someday that love will come. I have to feel that all the bull shit many people go through with the whole dating scene and the games people play is going to have to be worth it one day. Games like where someone will keep a person at an arm’s reach so that they don’t get too close nor get too far but just there enough to get you whenever they want. Or the repetitive pattern of “I’m sorry, it was a mistake. Come back. I’m sorry, it was a mistake. Come back.” I’ve seen it happen too many times with my friends and with myself. The player may think we don’t know the game, but we all do. We just have to be smart and strong enough not to fall for it. And it’s hard not to fall for it when it makes you feel so important and so wanted. It’s just like my friend said: “It’s a game where they make you feel so good that you feel like you’re flying and just when you’re about to touch the sky, they cut your wings and you fall hard getting hurt when you hit the ground. They apologize and say it was a mistake. But then do it to you again and you continue to fall for it.”
Sometimes I think that I am too hopeful for this kind of love to come into my life. Sometimes I feel like I get too hopeful to the point where maybe I have too high expectations. But I honestly would rather have high expectations, even if it dissapoints me when/if it doesn't work out, than to go into anything with a pessimistic attitude. I'd rather be hopeful than expect the least in someone. Why would anyone want to try anything expecting the least from someone? I'll always be the eternal optimist. Even in my darkest hour.
With all that said, I move on. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because I care too much about myself to let anyone or anything hurt me. Because my life is in my control. And because one day all my dreams will come true.
One day……
Thanks for reading :o)
A Hidden Message?
I wrote this poem when I was going through something with someone and I think it can be kind of self explanatory. There are two ways to read it. One is left to right and the other one is....... well....... you figure it out :o)
Waves
You remind me of beautiful waves
Coming in on the sandy floor
Raging so strong, so powerful
All over the awaiting shore
Never ceasing to surprise me
Diving in and hitting so strong
Your inconsistent beauty confuses me
I wonder if I’m often so wrong
And just like the calm peaceful lakes
Mimicking waves subside and the current is slow
Hearing the soft ocean breeze
Enters a fear deep within below
A fear too often recollected
Responding to the calm waters I see
Triggering tears from our past
Breaking the heart within me
Rocks skidding across the waters
Over the stillness of your being
Keeping me at an arms reach
Entertaining yourself free willing
Never to question what it is I feel
Or bother to say where you’ve gone
The waves remain steady with silence
Like you, they remain so calm
However, before I know it
The waves rage again
I over indulge in your sweetness
As the waves start coming in
Such beautiful sounds blanket my ears
I resist the urge and try to transcend
Seeking the courage to say
This needs to stop and it needs to end.
By: Jessenia Lua
This other piece I wrote while sitting on a cliff watching the ocean and feeling the breeze across my face. Sometimes I feel like there's a higher power in the world that can guide you and give you signs that everything is going to be ok. So from that moment, I wrote this poem: Colors
From The Gray
Have you ever listened to the wind
Have you ever heard its haunting call
Do you let it catch your tears
Or do you just let them fall
If you close your eyes for a bit
You can hear what it wants to say
It may confuse you at first
But you’ll see colors from the gray
By: Jessenia Lua
Thanks for reading :o)
Waves
You remind me of beautiful waves
Coming in on the sandy floor
Raging so strong, so powerful
All over the awaiting shore
Never ceasing to surprise me
Diving in and hitting so strong
Your inconsistent beauty confuses me
I wonder if I’m often so wrong
And just like the calm peaceful lakes
Mimicking waves subside and the current is slow
Hearing the soft ocean breeze
Enters a fear deep within below
A fear too often recollected
Responding to the calm waters I see
Triggering tears from our past
Breaking the heart within me
Rocks skidding across the waters
Over the stillness of your being
Keeping me at an arms reach
Entertaining yourself free willing
Never to question what it is I feel
Or bother to say where you’ve gone
The waves remain steady with silence
Like you, they remain so calm
However, before I know it
The waves rage again
I over indulge in your sweetness
As the waves start coming in
Such beautiful sounds blanket my ears
I resist the urge and try to transcend
Seeking the courage to say
This needs to stop and it needs to end.
By: Jessenia Lua
This other piece I wrote while sitting on a cliff watching the ocean and feeling the breeze across my face. Sometimes I feel like there's a higher power in the world that can guide you and give you signs that everything is going to be ok. So from that moment, I wrote this poem: Colors
From The Gray
Have you ever listened to the wind
Have you ever heard its haunting call
Do you let it catch your tears
Or do you just let them fall
If you close your eyes for a bit
You can hear what it wants to say
It may confuse you at first
But you’ll see colors from the gray
By: Jessenia Lua
Thanks for reading :o)
Sunday, September 26, 2010
A Conversation
Growing up Catholic and always attending church every Sunday made me appreciate the faith in God I have today. I have stated before that in my adult life I consider myself a Catholic, but not a practicing Catholic. I’ll go to church for major holidays and maybe go during a random weekend with my family when I’m visiting Brawley (my hometown). But it’s very rare I attend while living in North County San Diego. But just because I don’t go to church every Sunday and call myself a non-practicing Catholic, doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in God or respect the Catholic church’s traditions. I understand that each religion has its own traditions, morals, and values. I respect that. However, a bit of a controversial subject has come up on more than one occasion. I remember the first time I ever spoke about this was with my college dorm roommate Kasey (pseudonym).
One night my two college dorm roommates and I were talking about sex and religion. Kasey had stated she was a born-again virgin and was going to stay celibate until marriage. I respected her for saying that, but I was caught off guard with what she said next. Kasey stated that with her new found faith in Christianity she was planning on staying celibate until marriage, but allows other acts of sexual pleasure with her partner such as oral sex. I really didn’t understand her statement for being celibate is the act of completely withholding from any kind of sex. She explained to me that (according to her) oral sex is ok as long as it's not intercourse. I still didn’t completely understand why oral sex was allowed and not intercourse, but I left it alone because it's her life and only she decides to live however she chooses. However, living here in North County and getting to know new friends in school or at other social gatherings, I’ve come to learn that many people who say they are Christians live by Kasey’s statement.
A few months ago I had this very same conversation with a friend of mine. Wanting to get a better understanding as to why oral sex is allowed but not intercourse in the faith of Christianity, the following text conversation took place between my friend David (pseudonym and an active Christian) and me.
Note: Text conversation is verbatim. Only changes made were grammar mistakes. Please hold your judgment on the conversation and just find the sense of humor behind it because I thought it was really funny!!
(David talking about a girl he was dating at the time)
David: She is waiting until marriage too. Has only gone as far as oral on a guy. Never had oral done on her. Only oral on two boyfriends.
Me: Why is it ok to do oral for you and not go all the way? You’re committing the same act just in a different hole!!
David: It is different. Intercourse is more intimate. Also, to avoid pregnancy. I think you shouldn’t do oral at all until marriage but it is hard to wait.
Me: It’s not different. In the sense of pregnancy - yes, but in the sense of intimacy and “not the same as sex” bull shit! It’s not! Your bodies are responding the same way whether orally or through intercourse. It is not a loop hole into saving yourself for marriage. You want to save yourself for marriage then don’t do anything at all. Saying that you’re saving yourself for marriage but doing oral is a big time contradiction. And the person is being a hypocrite. I think I might blog about this.
David: You do have valid points, but having someone inside you is more intimate. One has more of a broken heart if it doesn’t work out if they go all the way.
Me: You can do whatever you want. People don’t have to follow sex with their religion and are not obligated to. They could if they want. But it still doesn’t make sense because either way you’re “inside” someone (literally speaking).
David: You are right. I will just wait so I’m not a hypocrite.
Me: Too late. You can no longer say you’re saving yourself because you have said you’ve done oral. Now, instead, you should say you’ll stay celibate until marriage. And that’s the TRUTH!!! Muahhahahaha!!!
Me: Mr. Truth man!!
Me: What’s the matter? Did the truth scare ya? (at this point he hadn’t responded back and I was teasing him by calling him Mr. Truth man because he claims to only speak the truth out of whatever controversial arguments we have)
David: I’m still a virgin.
Me: That’s true. But sexually, you’re celibate.
David: I guess
Me: No you don’t guess. It’s the TRUTH HAHAHAHAHAAA!!!
David: What is the truth?
Me: That you’re no longer waiting to get married to be with a woman. You already acted in a sexual manner with one even though it wasn’t intercourse. You, my friend, are a virgin who is sexually celibate. But you’re only celibate if u decide to not engage in anymore sexual oral acts with women before your marriage.
David: Well I’m not going to do anything sexual until marriage.
Me: Good for you! But if you somehow give in and do some oral or even have sex, it’s ok. God isn’t going to be mad at you. Sex is as natural as the rain that falls!! Embrace it. You can keep your religion and have sex too ya know!
David: Ok, I agree with you.
So as you can tell from our conversation above, do what you want and believe what you want. I don’t really care if you’re a Christian who only allows sexual oral pleasure with your partner as long as it’s not intercourse because you think only oral sex before marriage is “ok.” I was only trying to prove a point to David because we often get into controversial arguments where he “thinks” I’m wrong. So be a Christian, be a Catholic, be a Baptist, be a virgin, or not. Just live your life however you want. I’m no one to judge. Oh but please be safe. Because if you catch something, you spread something!! Thanks for reading!!
One night my two college dorm roommates and I were talking about sex and religion. Kasey had stated she was a born-again virgin and was going to stay celibate until marriage. I respected her for saying that, but I was caught off guard with what she said next. Kasey stated that with her new found faith in Christianity she was planning on staying celibate until marriage, but allows other acts of sexual pleasure with her partner such as oral sex. I really didn’t understand her statement for being celibate is the act of completely withholding from any kind of sex. She explained to me that (according to her) oral sex is ok as long as it's not intercourse. I still didn’t completely understand why oral sex was allowed and not intercourse, but I left it alone because it's her life and only she decides to live however she chooses. However, living here in North County and getting to know new friends in school or at other social gatherings, I’ve come to learn that many people who say they are Christians live by Kasey’s statement.
A few months ago I had this very same conversation with a friend of mine. Wanting to get a better understanding as to why oral sex is allowed but not intercourse in the faith of Christianity, the following text conversation took place between my friend David (pseudonym and an active Christian) and me.
Note: Text conversation is verbatim. Only changes made were grammar mistakes. Please hold your judgment on the conversation and just find the sense of humor behind it because I thought it was really funny!!
(David talking about a girl he was dating at the time)
David: She is waiting until marriage too. Has only gone as far as oral on a guy. Never had oral done on her. Only oral on two boyfriends.
Me: Why is it ok to do oral for you and not go all the way? You’re committing the same act just in a different hole!!
David: It is different. Intercourse is more intimate. Also, to avoid pregnancy. I think you shouldn’t do oral at all until marriage but it is hard to wait.
Me: It’s not different. In the sense of pregnancy - yes, but in the sense of intimacy and “not the same as sex” bull shit! It’s not! Your bodies are responding the same way whether orally or through intercourse. It is not a loop hole into saving yourself for marriage. You want to save yourself for marriage then don’t do anything at all. Saying that you’re saving yourself for marriage but doing oral is a big time contradiction. And the person is being a hypocrite. I think I might blog about this.
David: You do have valid points, but having someone inside you is more intimate. One has more of a broken heart if it doesn’t work out if they go all the way.
Me: You can do whatever you want. People don’t have to follow sex with their religion and are not obligated to. They could if they want. But it still doesn’t make sense because either way you’re “inside” someone (literally speaking).
David: You are right. I will just wait so I’m not a hypocrite.
Me: Too late. You can no longer say you’re saving yourself because you have said you’ve done oral. Now, instead, you should say you’ll stay celibate until marriage. And that’s the TRUTH!!! Muahhahahaha!!!
Me: Mr. Truth man!!
Me: What’s the matter? Did the truth scare ya? (at this point he hadn’t responded back and I was teasing him by calling him Mr. Truth man because he claims to only speak the truth out of whatever controversial arguments we have)
David: I’m still a virgin.
Me: That’s true. But sexually, you’re celibate.
David: I guess
Me: No you don’t guess. It’s the TRUTH HAHAHAHAHAAA!!!
David: What is the truth?
Me: That you’re no longer waiting to get married to be with a woman. You already acted in a sexual manner with one even though it wasn’t intercourse. You, my friend, are a virgin who is sexually celibate. But you’re only celibate if u decide to not engage in anymore sexual oral acts with women before your marriage.
David: Well I’m not going to do anything sexual until marriage.
Me: Good for you! But if you somehow give in and do some oral or even have sex, it’s ok. God isn’t going to be mad at you. Sex is as natural as the rain that falls!! Embrace it. You can keep your religion and have sex too ya know!
David: Ok, I agree with you.
So as you can tell from our conversation above, do what you want and believe what you want. I don’t really care if you’re a Christian who only allows sexual oral pleasure with your partner as long as it’s not intercourse because you think only oral sex before marriage is “ok.” I was only trying to prove a point to David because we often get into controversial arguments where he “thinks” I’m wrong. So be a Christian, be a Catholic, be a Baptist, be a virgin, or not. Just live your life however you want. I’m no one to judge. Oh but please be safe. Because if you catch something, you spread something!! Thanks for reading!!
A Conversation Part Deux
I don’t consider myself to be a hard-core feminist. I would say I’m mildly a feminist. I believe in women’s lib and women’s rights but I’m not as dedicated as some. My youngest sister, on the other hand, is by far a strong feminist and I’ve definitely learned a lot from her. I’ve never told her this but she has definitely inspired me to be a better person and a stronger woman. I have no idea where she got it from, being that she’s the baby of the family. Maybe it was from seeing our mother change into an independent strong woman after the death of our father. Either way, after studying Women’s Studies in college and seeing how far women have come, I will always be a supporter of strong independent women.
Another controversial conversation that took place between my friend David (pseudonym) and I was about the higher amount of women in colleges and enforcing affirmative action for men. Here what follows is that conversation verbatim. Only changes made were grammatical errors.
David: Since now there are more women in college and more women in law schools should there be affirmative action to help men?
Me: Hell to the NO!!!!
David: So it was ok when there was affirmative action for women?
Me: Yes because it was only a world dominated by men before affirmative action for women. Did you think anything was wrong?
David: Well now if women start dominating is that fair?
Me: Yes because then it would be an equally driven world.
David: So schools should deny women spots instead and put men in those spots?
Me: Just like marriage it should be equal to everyone even gays. But on schools people should be accepted based on qualifications, not gender.
David: So when men had better scores than women but because of affirmative action then men were denied was good? Liberal double standard again.
Me: Sounds like you’re saying that women aren’t intellectually respected. Sounds like u really have a problem with equality.
David: I never said women aren’t respected. I don’t have a problem with equality. You do. You don’t want schools to have the equal number of men and women.
Me: When men had the higher score back then it was because women were denied education, and now you’re getting scared because women are moving up.
David: Nope. I think that the best person should get the spot. Always did. You have changed your mind now that it benefits you.
Me: Changed my mind about what?
David: You believed in affirmative action. If it was done to put men and women at the same number you would be against it.
Me: No that’s not what I said. I believe in affirmative action to help women succeed and be equal in a male dominated world because women were always denied the rights of men.
David: So if women start dominating legal fields that is different than when men did?
Me: Yes because BACK THEN WOMEN WERE DENIED EDUCATION!!!! If the man doesn’t get a spot in any field today it’s because he wasn’t good enough!! THE WOMAN IS SMARTER!!!!
Looking back at this conversation, I can see two really stubborn people fighting for their sides and think it’s kind of funny!! But in all seriousness, I think it would be a really dumb and stupid idea to have affirmative action for men in colleges just because they are being out-numbered by women. I’m sorry if that offends anyone, but it’s just the way I feel. It seems like David didn’t understand my reason for supporting that. Women’s lib and feminism opened all the doors to opportunities women have today. Back when women were denied the right to vote and the right to an education, men dominated everything. What kind of affirmative action can be given to men when they have always had the right to do everything? If women are out-numbering men in colleges and in legal fields, it’s because they are smarter. Ok I know that totally sounds childish but it holds a little truth to it. I haven’t done the research so I can’t truly say that this is accurate but from what little I have read on the subject, it’s apparent that women do out-number men in colleges. Including the one I attended. I wonder why some men are threatened by that. Besides, many educational institutions are still run by men who set quotas to keep an equal number of men and women. And this is still a very male driven world. I wonder how many bruised egos I’ll get to make fun of when a woman president is elected. Oh well. I can dream can’t I?!! Thanks for reading!!
By the way, I really love this picture!
Another controversial conversation that took place between my friend David (pseudonym) and I was about the higher amount of women in colleges and enforcing affirmative action for men. Here what follows is that conversation verbatim. Only changes made were grammatical errors.
David: Since now there are more women in college and more women in law schools should there be affirmative action to help men?
Me: Hell to the NO!!!!
David: So it was ok when there was affirmative action for women?
Me: Yes because it was only a world dominated by men before affirmative action for women. Did you think anything was wrong?
David: Well now if women start dominating is that fair?
Me: Yes because then it would be an equally driven world.
David: So schools should deny women spots instead and put men in those spots?
Me: Just like marriage it should be equal to everyone even gays. But on schools people should be accepted based on qualifications, not gender.
David: So when men had better scores than women but because of affirmative action then men were denied was good? Liberal double standard again.
Me: Sounds like you’re saying that women aren’t intellectually respected. Sounds like u really have a problem with equality.
David: I never said women aren’t respected. I don’t have a problem with equality. You do. You don’t want schools to have the equal number of men and women.
Me: When men had the higher score back then it was because women were denied education, and now you’re getting scared because women are moving up.
David: Nope. I think that the best person should get the spot. Always did. You have changed your mind now that it benefits you.
Me: Changed my mind about what?
David: You believed in affirmative action. If it was done to put men and women at the same number you would be against it.
Me: No that’s not what I said. I believe in affirmative action to help women succeed and be equal in a male dominated world because women were always denied the rights of men.
David: So if women start dominating legal fields that is different than when men did?
Me: Yes because BACK THEN WOMEN WERE DENIED EDUCATION!!!! If the man doesn’t get a spot in any field today it’s because he wasn’t good enough!! THE WOMAN IS SMARTER!!!!
Looking back at this conversation, I can see two really stubborn people fighting for their sides and think it’s kind of funny!! But in all seriousness, I think it would be a really dumb and stupid idea to have affirmative action for men in colleges just because they are being out-numbered by women. I’m sorry if that offends anyone, but it’s just the way I feel. It seems like David didn’t understand my reason for supporting that. Women’s lib and feminism opened all the doors to opportunities women have today. Back when women were denied the right to vote and the right to an education, men dominated everything. What kind of affirmative action can be given to men when they have always had the right to do everything? If women are out-numbering men in colleges and in legal fields, it’s because they are smarter. Ok I know that totally sounds childish but it holds a little truth to it. I haven’t done the research so I can’t truly say that this is accurate but from what little I have read on the subject, it’s apparent that women do out-number men in colleges. Including the one I attended. I wonder why some men are threatened by that. Besides, many educational institutions are still run by men who set quotas to keep an equal number of men and women. And this is still a very male driven world. I wonder how many bruised egos I’ll get to make fun of when a woman president is elected. Oh well. I can dream can’t I?!! Thanks for reading!!
By the way, I really love this picture!
9 Years. Forgive?
Last Friday, the 24th of September, I woke with a feeling of something missing. I remember waking up, getting ready for work, and trying to find what was bugging me that I just couldn’t remember. Still confused, I got in my car to start heading for work and out of nowhere I began to think about a conversation I had with a friend a few days prior. Based on the conversation we were having, she told me that I must be a way more forgiving person than herself. It got me thinking about how I reflect myself towards others in moments of forgiveness.
When I got to work and parked my car, I pulled out my phone from my purse and looked on the date it read. Friday September 24th was my late brother Salvador’s nine year death anniversary.
I was immediately overwhelmed with memories and started reflecting back on everything that happened. I find it strange that even after all this time I still feel the same pain I felt when he passed away nine years ago. Throughout the whole day I kept thinking about Chava (his knick name). But it’s a funny thing because I can’t think about Chava without thinking about my late father Rafael who passed away in 1995. All day I kept thinking about both of them and kept wondering what life would have been like if they were still here.
There’s this one piece footage we have on video cassette of the two of them together singing. I’m sure by now my family members reading this know which one I’m talking about. If I had it with me, I would put it on here for everyone to see because it is the most endearing moment between the two them during that 1991 Christmas party. The camera was facing them, they were facing a few family members, and each had one of their arms around each other’s opposite shoulder. I don’t remember the Spanish song they were singing but they were both serenading the family. In sync and in tune, they stood there showcasing their talent when suddenly and coincidently they both get stuck on the same line of the song because they didn’t know the rest of it. They paused to look at each other and everyone busted out laughing. I don’t know how many times I’ve watched it, but everytime I do it still cracks me up.
For some reason that’s when I started thinking about me being a forgiving person like my friend had told me I was. That day I realized that maybe I am a forgiving person. Maybe I forgive more than I should. Maybe I give people too many chances. But I feel as though I learned to forgive in order to move on. I think I learned a lot about myself and grown tolerant of people when mourning the death of my brother and dad. I learned to forgive myself for not saying what I should have said to Chava or Dad. I learned to forgive myself for not spending more time with them before they passed away. I learned to forgive the details of my mistakes when they were alive. Otherwise, how the hell am I supposed to move on?! I think I have forgiven myself for a lot of things but I haven’t forgiven myself completely. And I don’t think I can. Who knows, maybe I never will. Maybe that’s why sometimes I feel stuck in that emotional fear and anxiety to losing a family member. To this day I still fear a single phone call from one of my sisters will be about someone dying in the family. As hard as that is to write, I admit it.
With Dad and Chava’s death, I remember every thought I had after they died. I was only 11 years old when Dad died, but I remember thinking about going to his gravesite at night. It was a few weeks after he died and I remember thinking about taking a shovel to his gravesite at night when no one was there, digging him up, open his coffin, and just hug him one last time. I knew he was dead and wasn’t coming back, but I wanted that last chance to give him one more hug. And the funny thing is, we all actually got a chance to do that at the hospital before the machines were taken away. But my last chance wasn’t enough.
When I was about to turn 15 and was planning my Quinceñera, I remember my sister Lupe taking me and my youngest sister to the cemetery to go see his gravesite. We usually went about once a week. We were there for a little while and when we were leaving I remember my sister Lupe telling me “When you walk down the aisle at church on your Quinceñera, make a little room for Dad so he can join you ok.” She didn’t see me because I turned away, but I couldn’t stop crying when she said that.
When Chava died, I remember feeling very scared. Everywhere I went and whoever I was with,
I felt terrified. (I never told anyone and some of these thoughts are all going to be new to my family members reading this so I apologize to you guys if this triggers any old feelings.) I couldn’t identify what I was afraid of but felt fear itself. I remember being very quiet and waiting for him to appear in front of me. It had been a few days after he died and I remember lying down on my bed in my room one night just staring at the popcorn ceiling at my mom’s house. I was 18 years old and I remember thinking to myself “Ok Chava, where are you? Are you there?” I don’t know why but I waited and waited for him to appear out of nowhere as if that’s what is supposed to happen. I remember feeling certain that he was going to appear and I didn’t want to miss it. But he never appeared.
There’s still a lot I can say about Dad and Chava. But I would need more than the space provided here. For now, I’d like to keep them in my dreams and in my prayers. Thank you for reading.
When I got to work and parked my car, I pulled out my phone from my purse and looked on the date it read. Friday September 24th was my late brother Salvador’s nine year death anniversary.
I was immediately overwhelmed with memories and started reflecting back on everything that happened. I find it strange that even after all this time I still feel the same pain I felt when he passed away nine years ago. Throughout the whole day I kept thinking about Chava (his knick name). But it’s a funny thing because I can’t think about Chava without thinking about my late father Rafael who passed away in 1995. All day I kept thinking about both of them and kept wondering what life would have been like if they were still here.
There’s this one piece footage we have on video cassette of the two of them together singing. I’m sure by now my family members reading this know which one I’m talking about. If I had it with me, I would put it on here for everyone to see because it is the most endearing moment between the two them during that 1991 Christmas party. The camera was facing them, they were facing a few family members, and each had one of their arms around each other’s opposite shoulder. I don’t remember the Spanish song they were singing but they were both serenading the family. In sync and in tune, they stood there showcasing their talent when suddenly and coincidently they both get stuck on the same line of the song because they didn’t know the rest of it. They paused to look at each other and everyone busted out laughing. I don’t know how many times I’ve watched it, but everytime I do it still cracks me up.
For some reason that’s when I started thinking about me being a forgiving person like my friend had told me I was. That day I realized that maybe I am a forgiving person. Maybe I forgive more than I should. Maybe I give people too many chances. But I feel as though I learned to forgive in order to move on. I think I learned a lot about myself and grown tolerant of people when mourning the death of my brother and dad. I learned to forgive myself for not saying what I should have said to Chava or Dad. I learned to forgive myself for not spending more time with them before they passed away. I learned to forgive the details of my mistakes when they were alive. Otherwise, how the hell am I supposed to move on?! I think I have forgiven myself for a lot of things but I haven’t forgiven myself completely. And I don’t think I can. Who knows, maybe I never will. Maybe that’s why sometimes I feel stuck in that emotional fear and anxiety to losing a family member. To this day I still fear a single phone call from one of my sisters will be about someone dying in the family. As hard as that is to write, I admit it.
With Dad and Chava’s death, I remember every thought I had after they died. I was only 11 years old when Dad died, but I remember thinking about going to his gravesite at night. It was a few weeks after he died and I remember thinking about taking a shovel to his gravesite at night when no one was there, digging him up, open his coffin, and just hug him one last time. I knew he was dead and wasn’t coming back, but I wanted that last chance to give him one more hug. And the funny thing is, we all actually got a chance to do that at the hospital before the machines were taken away. But my last chance wasn’t enough.
When I was about to turn 15 and was planning my Quinceñera, I remember my sister Lupe taking me and my youngest sister to the cemetery to go see his gravesite. We usually went about once a week. We were there for a little while and when we were leaving I remember my sister Lupe telling me “When you walk down the aisle at church on your Quinceñera, make a little room for Dad so he can join you ok.” She didn’t see me because I turned away, but I couldn’t stop crying when she said that.
When Chava died, I remember feeling very scared. Everywhere I went and whoever I was with,
I felt terrified. (I never told anyone and some of these thoughts are all going to be new to my family members reading this so I apologize to you guys if this triggers any old feelings.) I couldn’t identify what I was afraid of but felt fear itself. I remember being very quiet and waiting for him to appear in front of me. It had been a few days after he died and I remember lying down on my bed in my room one night just staring at the popcorn ceiling at my mom’s house. I was 18 years old and I remember thinking to myself “Ok Chava, where are you? Are you there?” I don’t know why but I waited and waited for him to appear out of nowhere as if that’s what is supposed to happen. I remember feeling certain that he was going to appear and I didn’t want to miss it. But he never appeared.There’s still a lot I can say about Dad and Chava. But I would need more than the space provided here. For now, I’d like to keep them in my dreams and in my prayers. Thank you for reading.
Friday, August 20, 2010
EWWW!! What is that? Should I go to the hospital? DUHHHH!!!!
Whenever something wrong goes on in my life, I sometimes panic and don’t know how to handle my situations. But through all my dismay, I always seem to find the humor in life making things easier to deal with. I have to credit my friends and family who always make me laugh and put a huge smile on my face no matter how shitty any situation is. As most of you know, I was recently in the hospital this past July for five days due to an infected wound that came from an abscess which had popped but drained very slowly for four days. Yes that is totally gross and I will try my hardest not to make you gag haha!! During these five miserable days, I mentally documented the top ten funny and memorable moments that occurred during my stay at the hospital. And yes even the earthquake everyone felt.
Moment #10 – The IV:
Upon arriving at the hospital and looked at by doctors and nurses, it was apparent that I was going to need an IV set in my arm to start fighting the infection. I’m a huge cry baby when it comes to needles (just ask my best friend Andrea who has been there to witness my many tantrums whenever I got poked), so this experience was ironically funny to say the least, but painfully memorable. While in the ER room, the first nurse walks in, introduces herself, and attempts to put in an IV on my center left arm. She carefully wiggles the needle and can’t find a vein. She says “Sorry hun but I’m gonna try your other arm.” She proceeds to try my right arm and with a confused look on her face wiggles and wiggles the needle to find the vein. She takes the needle out, sighs in disappointment and calls another nurse. The next nurse enters, introduces herself with a big smile and attempts to put an IV on the inner part of my wrist. Biting my lips together, she digs in really deep to find the vein but can’t seem to get it. She pulls it out, apologizes, and says she’s going to try the outside part of my palm. That too was a failed attempt. So now they bring in the nurse that can always find a vein!! Nurse number 3!! Perky and really sweet, she introduces herself and says she will find that vein!! This ti
me she tries the center part of my upper left arm. She wiggles and wiggles and finally says “Got it!” They quickly hook me up and squeeze in some liquid that will help show my insides in the CAT scan. I get sent to the CAT scan room but since it wasn’t ready, I was placed in a hallway with wall partitions and was told to wait there (see photo - reflection is of the hallway and in my "pretend room" haha!). About an hour later I was put through the CAT scan machine and after being scanned once, I hear the technician say “Can’t see anything. I don’t think the IV is hooked up to her vein.” I hear another technician say “Just scan her without it. They’re having trouble.” So now I go back to another ER room and nurse number 4 comes out to hopefully find a freakin vein!! This dude barely says a word. He grabs my left arm and finds a spot to try on my forearm. This one hurt the most. He dug in deep to find a vein and still nothing. Moves on to my right arm and still nothing. He sighs in disappointment, apologizes, leaves, and in comes a young very attractive doctor with an ultrasound machine. Person number 5 hubba hubba!! He introduces himself and says “Ok, hopefully we can find a vein with this machine otherwise we’re gonna have to put it in your neck.” As soon as he said that, my attraction to him whittled away and I quickly snap my head up to look up at him and yell “PLEASE FIND A VEIN!! PLEASE FIND A VEIN!!” As he scans my arm with the machine, he thinks he finds one and attempts to connect the IV. Unfortunately, he failed and walks away. I start to cover my neck with my hands as if to protect it from anyone puncturing it!! But then nurse number 6 comes in and says she wants to try one more time. She tries her very best on a new location of my arm but nothing. Tries on my other arm (this is probably the 15th time I had been poked) and still nothing!! Outside the hall I hear another nurse from her station yell “The Oncology Nurse said to stop poking her. They said they’ll find the vein and to just take her to her room.” Phew!! No IV in my neck please!!
Moment #9 – THE SCRAPE/SWAB :(
While the sixth nurse was attempting one more time to find a vein, another nurse comes in and tells me that I will have to be admitted because my wound was infected and has to take a sample of it. So I have one nurse digging a needle for the 15th time on my upper left shoulder, while the other nurse swabs and scrapes my open wound which grew to about three inches oval shape due to the infection. The moment I felt that swab/scrape go across my open bleeding with pus wound, I screamed as if my life was being taken a way from me!!!! That scream took no effort to come out. It had its own control. I did that breathy cry that sounds like someone is heavily hyperventilating and tears fell like a waterfall. It was just too damn much!!
Moment #8 – Oncology Nurse thinks she’s the bomb diggity:
Still without an IV, I was sent to my hospital room around 3am in the Oncology department. A nurse comes in to introduce herself and said she was going to place an IV in my arm. I told her good luck and please don’t hurt me!! I looked the opposite direction, felt a prick, and she says “all done!” I looked at her and asked “Really? You got it that fast? Everyone downstairs couldn’t do it. Not even a doctor!!” And in the thickest Mexican accent she said “Aye mija, es cos los de downstairs nurses son losers y no saben nada. If I wes da doctor, I wood be so embarrassed. I’ll be right back ok mija.” This nurse thought she was the shit after she found that vein. But hey, I wouldn’t blame her. She did what five nurses and one doctor couldn’t do haha!!
Moment #7 – The Morphine:
It had been about 10 hours since I had gotten to the hospital and no one had seen my wound other than the nurse in triage who just looked at it for a mere moment. I was lying in bed at around 7am when the first nurse came in to introduce herself and say that she will be checking my wound. She had heard how painful it was when they swabbed/scraped it and told me she was going to give me morphine to ease the pain before she cleaned it and bandaged it up. I’ve never been hospitalized and never done drugs so the feeling that morphine gave me was quite an unexpected experience. Let me tell you, this wasn’t as painful as the swab/scrape, but it was pretty close. Right before the nurse changed the bandage, she gave me a small dose of morphine. I don’t know why people like the stuff! I hated it!! It would give me a horrible headache and barely even soften the pain. I could still feel everything the nurse was doing. Only this time I was in pain in slow motion. However, the second time she changed the bandage, which was later on at night time, she gave me a little more morphine to help with the pain. This time, I was in a whole different world. I closed my eyes and made a frown because of the headache it would give me. I could feel the nurse opening the bandage and begin to clean my wound very slowly. I felt a slight sting and raised my left arm in mid-air to say very slowly in a calm voice “ssssssss oooouuuuucccchhhh.” I don’t know why but my arm stayed in mid-air for about a minute, I think, before I dropped it and fell asleep. About what seemed like an hour later, I wake up with both my fists over my face. I remember dreaming of butterflies and trying to catch them. Upon waking up, I was still high on the morphine and catching invisible butterflies!!
Moment #6 – A True Friend:
I had been in the hospital for about 16 hours when my best friend of 15 years came to visit me right after work. Oh my dear Andrea who has always been there for me. Now, this is probably too much information but it’s necessary to say because it signifies how great of a friend Andrea is. It was around 3 or 4pm when I finally got up to pee. I had been holding it in because my wound was so painful that it made it difficult to barely even move. With the help of my best friend, I slowly got up, she accompanied me to the restroom, and stood in front of me to make sure I wouldn’t fall. In front of her, I peed and was not even embarrassed. I had never done that before in front of her. And in her most sincerest but jokingly voice she said “Chena, if I have to…….I am willing to wipe you.” I started laughing and said “No thanks I can do it!!” Even though that action would have crossed a few lines in our friendship, she was still willing to do it. Thanks for being there Andrea :o)
Moment #5 – The Earthquake:
This moment in particular was especially hilarious because of how one of the nurses reacted!! I remember it was on a Wednesday around 3pm or so when Andrea was sitting next to me and a nurse came in to check my vitals. We were carrying on a friendly conversation when we felt a little rattle. I said in a calm voice because it didn’t scare me “oh, it’s an earthquake.” The nurse looked at me like she was about to say “Whaaaaat?!!!” But before we could say anything, everything rattled again for a bit longer and stronger. Andrea, who is terrified of earthquakes, was surprisingly calm. I was calm too. But the nurse……..well………the moment the second rattle hit, she dropped whatever she was holding in her hands, said in a terrified voice “SHIT!” and ran out of the room!! Completely forgetting about me or the 80 year old barely mobile woman whom I was sharing a room with!! Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine!!
Moment #4 – Oh Diarrhea!:
While at the hospital, I thought I was going to have the room to myself but there were two other patients sharing it with me. One was there on Monday and Tuesday but was gone by Tuesday night. The other patient was only there on Wednesday but dismissed later at night. Now, as everyone may know, I am a very friendly person and I like to talk to and meet new people. Both of these ladies just pretty much gave me the cold shoulder. I tried to talk to them, offer them control of the television, offered them magazines that my family and friends had brought me, and NOTHING!! The first patient that was there on Monday and Tuesday was a real snidely lady. I tried over and over to say “hello” but just got a “what the hell do you want” glance whenever she would pass my bed to use the bathroom. The other lady was nice and would say “hi” back but didn’t really care to talk to me. She must have been at least 80 years old and unfortunately couldn’t move much. This poor little fragile being couldn’t even get up to use the restroom so a nurse placed a portable toilet next to her bed. Now picture this: Our beds were approximately three feet apart. Her portable toilet took up about one foot of that space. It was placed on her left side of the bed next to her shoulder making it two feet away from my head. After my wound had been re-bandaged, I took a nap because the morphine would make me feel sleepy. Around 10am that Wednesday morning, I woke up to the sounds and smells of diarrhea coming out of this little old lady and into her toilet two feet away from me. There’s nothing I could do to stop the smell or the sounds. I quickly got out of my bed and sat on the chair that was next to the window. There was no way to open that window to get fresh air. As the lady continued to finish her business, I stepped into the restroom for some clean air. YES!! The restroom had clean air!! I come out a few minutes later and the whole room just reeked of diarrhea. I sit back on the chair and just deal with the smell. A minute later a nurse walks in to check on me and this is what she said “Hey Jessenia how are you do- ohhhhhh oooohhhhh!” She quickly jumps on the counter next to the chair that I’m sitting on and opens the window from the upper pane!!!! She gets down and calls a nurse to help the old lady. She leans down and whispers to me “I’m pregnant. So this smells ten times worst for me! Let’s hope this window brings in fresh air!!!” So because the old lady had intestinal problems, I was witness to her diarrhea four times that day. What a fun day (notice the sarcasm here).
Moment #3 – I’M OFF TO DIE!!!:
By the time Thursday came (fourth day) I was in a much better mood. My doctor had told me that surgery wasn’t necessary because the infection was going away. During my stay, I had two regular doctors. One was Dr. DucLé who was a general physician and the other was Dr. McCarthy who was the plastic surgeon and who was also in charge of deciding whether or not I was going to need surgery. I was surprised to see a third doctor that Thursday afternoon because I had already been there for four days and recovering well. I don’t remember the name of this doctor but because he had curly hair let’s just call him Dr. Curly. Dr. Curly came into my room right around noon time. He says he’s from the Disease and Infections Center and was there to look at my wound. I lay back to show him my wound and as he takes off the bandage to look at it, I begin to get a little nervous because he’s never seen me before. All the nurses and the two doctors had been very careful with me and making sure they don’t cause me any pain. I was about to tell Dr. Curly to not directly touch anywhere near or around my wound because it would be very painful and suddenly……..BOOM!!!! He touches the smack middle center of my wound making my body react by throwing my legs and arms up in the air and I let out a scream!!!! After my scream, I laugh in awkwardness and he apologizes. He calls in the nurse to change the bandage and he walks out. I never saw him again. The nurse changes my bandage and this time it felt like the first time. It seemed like all the nerves in my body just concentrated where my wound was and all I felt was nothing but burning pain. It felt like someone constantly had a flame to my skin and it wouldn’t go away. The nurse gave me morphine but it didn’t help. I laid there for about half hour with tears going down the side of my face and cringing my body the entire time. A few minutes later a man walks in and tells me that I need to get a picc line inserted and that I needed to get it at that moment. With a squished face and tears all over my cheeks I asked “Do we have to do it now?!!” He said yes and that I shouldn’t worry because he was going to wheel me on my bed to the area at the other side of the hospital and I wouldn’t have to move. Before he wheeled me out of my room the nurse came in to give me a couple more pain killers but nothing was working. This was probably the most physical pain I have ever experienced in my entire life. So picture this: a short little disorderly man pushing my big butt across the hospital in crying pain. I had tears coming down my face, my hands over my wound as to protect it from someone else touching it, and making little whimper crying sounds. I literally looked like I was off to die!! But luckily the pain killers helped and when my picc line was inserted I barely felt a thing. And yes I did complain about Dr. Curly. A lot!!!!
Moment #2 – The Nurses:
I can’t write this blog without mentioning how wonderful my nurses were. Each and every one of them was exceptional! Especially the first nurse I had who was Olivia. She was very friendly, sweet, and took really good care of me. I think I had about seven different nurses and if I could, I would send all of them flowers for the wonderful job they did. I swear I saw my two doctors there for a total of ten minutes each. But these nurses spent hours with me making sure I was ok. I wish they would get more credit for the wonderful work they do!
Moment #1 – Everyone:
Despite my painful experience at Tri-City Medical Hospital, I must say that I really enjoyed everyone’s company who came to visit me. Andrea, my best friend of 15 years, was there every single day. She even washed my hair in the bathroom sink because I kept complaining how dirty it felt (I wasn’t allowed to shower). And trust me! Washing this long and tangled mane was not easy. My dear Karlita, who I’ve known for so many years, drove all the way from Brawley just to see me for a few hours. I feel very blessed to have her as one of my closest friends. Jorge, who I met in school, and who I always have something to talk about with. Put us together and we’ll never run out of things to say to each other. Thank you for coming. Felipe who is my now roommate and who I met a little over two years ago when we were both attempting to live alone but figured we’re better off together. Always makes me smile and makes me laugh. Thanks for being a wonderful friend. To my favorite co-worker Linda Davis who I met while working nights and weekends at Rite Aid. I love your sense of humor and your wit!! You crack me up all the time!! You are so kind-hearted and even though there is quite an age difference between us, I consider you one of my closest friends. Thank you for coming to see me. To the Tanoris!!!! Melissa, Marissa, and Clarissa!!!! You girls have the biggest and kindest hearts!! You girls are so sweet I swear you are angels. Thank you for visiting me angels. Marybel, Vanessa, and Guano (Johana). You three are something else!! I feel like I wouldn’t be me without all three of you. I swear I never stop laughing when I’m around you three. We have stories that go way back and I hope to have many more with you. And to my family and the rest of my friends, thank you for all the phone calls. I know I told you not to come because I kept thinking I was going to leave the next day but had you known that I was going to be there longer, you would have came to visit. I know because you guys told me haha!! Everyone’s concern, prayers, visitations, and phone calls really made me appreciate all the love and blessings I have in my life. Thank you for everything.
Moment #10 – The IV:
Upon arriving at the hospital and looked at by doctors and nurses, it was apparent that I was going to need an IV set in my arm to start fighting the infection. I’m a huge cry baby when it comes to needles (just ask my best friend Andrea who has been there to witness my many tantrums whenever I got poked), so this experience was ironically funny to say the least, but painfully memorable. While in the ER room, the first nurse walks in, introduces herself, and attempts to put in an IV on my center left arm. She carefully wiggles the needle and can’t find a vein. She says “Sorry hun but I’m gonna try your other arm.” She proceeds to try my right arm and with a confused look on her face wiggles and wiggles the needle to find the vein. She takes the needle out, sighs in disappointment and calls another nurse. The next nurse enters, introduces herself with a big smile and attempts to put an IV on the inner part of my wrist. Biting my lips together, she digs in really deep to find the vein but can’t seem to get it. She pulls it out, apologizes, and says she’s going to try the outside part of my palm. That too was a failed attempt. So now they bring in the nurse that can always find a vein!! Nurse number 3!! Perky and really sweet, she introduces herself and says she will find that vein!! This ti
me she tries the center part of my upper left arm. She wiggles and wiggles and finally says “Got it!” They quickly hook me up and squeeze in some liquid that will help show my insides in the CAT scan. I get sent to the CAT scan room but since it wasn’t ready, I was placed in a hallway with wall partitions and was told to wait there (see photo - reflection is of the hallway and in my "pretend room" haha!). About an hour later I was put through the CAT scan machine and after being scanned once, I hear the technician say “Can’t see anything. I don’t think the IV is hooked up to her vein.” I hear another technician say “Just scan her without it. They’re having trouble.” So now I go back to another ER room and nurse number 4 comes out to hopefully find a freakin vein!! This dude barely says a word. He grabs my left arm and finds a spot to try on my forearm. This one hurt the most. He dug in deep to find a vein and still nothing. Moves on to my right arm and still nothing. He sighs in disappointment, apologizes, leaves, and in comes a young very attractive doctor with an ultrasound machine. Person number 5 hubba hubba!! He introduces himself and says “Ok, hopefully we can find a vein with this machine otherwise we’re gonna have to put it in your neck.” As soon as he said that, my attraction to him whittled away and I quickly snap my head up to look up at him and yell “PLEASE FIND A VEIN!! PLEASE FIND A VEIN!!” As he scans my arm with the machine, he thinks he finds one and attempts to connect the IV. Unfortunately, he failed and walks away. I start to cover my neck with my hands as if to protect it from anyone puncturing it!! But then nurse number 6 comes in and says she wants to try one more time. She tries her very best on a new location of my arm but nothing. Tries on my other arm (this is probably the 15th time I had been poked) and still nothing!! Outside the hall I hear another nurse from her station yell “The Oncology Nurse said to stop poking her. They said they’ll find the vein and to just take her to her room.” Phew!! No IV in my neck please!!Moment #9 – THE SCRAPE/SWAB :(
While the sixth nurse was attempting one more time to find a vein, another nurse comes in and tells me that I will have to be admitted because my wound was infected and has to take a sample of it. So I have one nurse digging a needle for the 15th time on my upper left shoulder, while the other nurse swabs and scrapes my open wound which grew to about three inches oval shape due to the infection. The moment I felt that swab/scrape go across my open bleeding with pus wound, I screamed as if my life was being taken a way from me!!!! That scream took no effort to come out. It had its own control. I did that breathy cry that sounds like someone is heavily hyperventilating and tears fell like a waterfall. It was just too damn much!!
Moment #8 – Oncology Nurse thinks she’s the bomb diggity:
Still without an IV, I was sent to my hospital room around 3am in the Oncology department. A nurse comes in to introduce herself and said she was going to place an IV in my arm. I told her good luck and please don’t hurt me!! I looked the opposite direction, felt a prick, and she says “all done!” I looked at her and asked “Really? You got it that fast? Everyone downstairs couldn’t do it. Not even a doctor!!” And in the thickest Mexican accent she said “Aye mija, es cos los de downstairs nurses son losers y no saben nada. If I wes da doctor, I wood be so embarrassed. I’ll be right back ok mija.” This nurse thought she was the shit after she found that vein. But hey, I wouldn’t blame her. She did what five nurses and one doctor couldn’t do haha!!
Moment #7 – The Morphine:
It had been about 10 hours since I had gotten to the hospital and no one had seen my wound other than the nurse in triage who just looked at it for a mere moment. I was lying in bed at around 7am when the first nurse came in to introduce herself and say that she will be checking my wound. She had heard how painful it was when they swabbed/scraped it and told me she was going to give me morphine to ease the pain before she cleaned it and bandaged it up. I’ve never been hospitalized and never done drugs so the feeling that morphine gave me was quite an unexpected experience. Let me tell you, this wasn’t as painful as the swab/scrape, but it was pretty close. Right before the nurse changed the bandage, she gave me a small dose of morphine. I don’t know why people like the stuff! I hated it!! It would give me a horrible headache and barely even soften the pain. I could still feel everything the nurse was doing. Only this time I was in pain in slow motion. However, the second time she changed the bandage, which was later on at night time, she gave me a little more morphine to help with the pain. This time, I was in a whole different world. I closed my eyes and made a frown because of the headache it would give me. I could feel the nurse opening the bandage and begin to clean my wound very slowly. I felt a slight sting and raised my left arm in mid-air to say very slowly in a calm voice “ssssssss oooouuuuucccchhhh.” I don’t know why but my arm stayed in mid-air for about a minute, I think, before I dropped it and fell asleep. About what seemed like an hour later, I wake up with both my fists over my face. I remember dreaming of butterflies and trying to catch them. Upon waking up, I was still high on the morphine and catching invisible butterflies!!
Moment #6 – A True Friend:
I had been in the hospital for about 16 hours when my best friend of 15 years came to visit me right after work. Oh my dear Andrea who has always been there for me. Now, this is probably too much information but it’s necessary to say because it signifies how great of a friend Andrea is. It was around 3 or 4pm when I finally got up to pee. I had been holding it in because my wound was so painful that it made it difficult to barely even move. With the help of my best friend, I slowly got up, she accompanied me to the restroom, and stood in front of me to make sure I wouldn’t fall. In front of her, I peed and was not even embarrassed. I had never done that before in front of her. And in her most sincerest but jokingly voice she said “Chena, if I have to…….I am willing to wipe you.” I started laughing and said “No thanks I can do it!!” Even though that action would have crossed a few lines in our friendship, she was still willing to do it. Thanks for being there Andrea :o)
Moment #5 – The Earthquake:
This moment in particular was especially hilarious because of how one of the nurses reacted!! I remember it was on a Wednesday around 3pm or so when Andrea was sitting next to me and a nurse came in to check my vitals. We were carrying on a friendly conversation when we felt a little rattle. I said in a calm voice because it didn’t scare me “oh, it’s an earthquake.” The nurse looked at me like she was about to say “Whaaaaat?!!!” But before we could say anything, everything rattled again for a bit longer and stronger. Andrea, who is terrified of earthquakes, was surprisingly calm. I was calm too. But the nurse……..well………the moment the second rattle hit, she dropped whatever she was holding in her hands, said in a terrified voice “SHIT!” and ran out of the room!! Completely forgetting about me or the 80 year old barely mobile woman whom I was sharing a room with!! Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine!!
Moment #4 – Oh Diarrhea!:
While at the hospital, I thought I was going to have the room to myself but there were two other patients sharing it with me. One was there on Monday and Tuesday but was gone by Tuesday night. The other patient was only there on Wednesday but dismissed later at night. Now, as everyone may know, I am a very friendly person and I like to talk to and meet new people. Both of these ladies just pretty much gave me the cold shoulder. I tried to talk to them, offer them control of the television, offered them magazines that my family and friends had brought me, and NOTHING!! The first patient that was there on Monday and Tuesday was a real snidely lady. I tried over and over to say “hello” but just got a “what the hell do you want” glance whenever she would pass my bed to use the bathroom. The other lady was nice and would say “hi” back but didn’t really care to talk to me. She must have been at least 80 years old and unfortunately couldn’t move much. This poor little fragile being couldn’t even get up to use the restroom so a nurse placed a portable toilet next to her bed. Now picture this: Our beds were approximately three feet apart. Her portable toilet took up about one foot of that space. It was placed on her left side of the bed next to her shoulder making it two feet away from my head. After my wound had been re-bandaged, I took a nap because the morphine would make me feel sleepy. Around 10am that Wednesday morning, I woke up to the sounds and smells of diarrhea coming out of this little old lady and into her toilet two feet away from me. There’s nothing I could do to stop the smell or the sounds. I quickly got out of my bed and sat on the chair that was next to the window. There was no way to open that window to get fresh air. As the lady continued to finish her business, I stepped into the restroom for some clean air. YES!! The restroom had clean air!! I come out a few minutes later and the whole room just reeked of diarrhea. I sit back on the chair and just deal with the smell. A minute later a nurse walks in to check on me and this is what she said “Hey Jessenia how are you do- ohhhhhh oooohhhhh!” She quickly jumps on the counter next to the chair that I’m sitting on and opens the window from the upper pane!!!! She gets down and calls a nurse to help the old lady. She leans down and whispers to me “I’m pregnant. So this smells ten times worst for me! Let’s hope this window brings in fresh air!!!” So because the old lady had intestinal problems, I was witness to her diarrhea four times that day. What a fun day (notice the sarcasm here).
Moment #3 – I’M OFF TO DIE!!!:
By the time Thursday came (fourth day) I was in a much better mood. My doctor had told me that surgery wasn’t necessary because the infection was going away. During my stay, I had two regular doctors. One was Dr. DucLé who was a general physician and the other was Dr. McCarthy who was the plastic surgeon and who was also in charge of deciding whether or not I was going to need surgery. I was surprised to see a third doctor that Thursday afternoon because I had already been there for four days and recovering well. I don’t remember the name of this doctor but because he had curly hair let’s just call him Dr. Curly. Dr. Curly came into my room right around noon time. He says he’s from the Disease and Infections Center and was there to look at my wound. I lay back to show him my wound and as he takes off the bandage to look at it, I begin to get a little nervous because he’s never seen me before. All the nurses and the two doctors had been very careful with me and making sure they don’t cause me any pain. I was about to tell Dr. Curly to not directly touch anywhere near or around my wound because it would be very painful and suddenly……..BOOM!!!! He touches the smack middle center of my wound making my body react by throwing my legs and arms up in the air and I let out a scream!!!! After my scream, I laugh in awkwardness and he apologizes. He calls in the nurse to change the bandage and he walks out. I never saw him again. The nurse changes my bandage and this time it felt like the first time. It seemed like all the nerves in my body just concentrated where my wound was and all I felt was nothing but burning pain. It felt like someone constantly had a flame to my skin and it wouldn’t go away. The nurse gave me morphine but it didn’t help. I laid there for about half hour with tears going down the side of my face and cringing my body the entire time. A few minutes later a man walks in and tells me that I need to get a picc line inserted and that I needed to get it at that moment. With a squished face and tears all over my cheeks I asked “Do we have to do it now?!!” He said yes and that I shouldn’t worry because he was going to wheel me on my bed to the area at the other side of the hospital and I wouldn’t have to move. Before he wheeled me out of my room the nurse came in to give me a couple more pain killers but nothing was working. This was probably the most physical pain I have ever experienced in my entire life. So picture this: a short little disorderly man pushing my big butt across the hospital in crying pain. I had tears coming down my face, my hands over my wound as to protect it from someone else touching it, and making little whimper crying sounds. I literally looked like I was off to die!! But luckily the pain killers helped and when my picc line was inserted I barely felt a thing. And yes I did complain about Dr. Curly. A lot!!!!
Moment #2 – The Nurses:
I can’t write this blog without mentioning how wonderful my nurses were. Each and every one of them was exceptional! Especially the first nurse I had who was Olivia. She was very friendly, sweet, and took really good care of me. I think I had about seven different nurses and if I could, I would send all of them flowers for the wonderful job they did. I swear I saw my two doctors there for a total of ten minutes each. But these nurses spent hours with me making sure I was ok. I wish they would get more credit for the wonderful work they do!
Moment #1 – Everyone:
Despite my painful experience at Tri-City Medical Hospital, I must say that I really enjoyed everyone’s company who came to visit me. Andrea, my best friend of 15 years, was there every single day. She even washed my hair in the bathroom sink because I kept complaining how dirty it felt (I wasn’t allowed to shower). And trust me! Washing this long and tangled mane was not easy. My dear Karlita, who I’ve known for so many years, drove all the way from Brawley just to see me for a few hours. I feel very blessed to have her as one of my closest friends. Jorge, who I met in school, and who I always have something to talk about with. Put us together and we’ll never run out of things to say to each other. Thank you for coming. Felipe who is my now roommate and who I met a little over two years ago when we were both attempting to live alone but figured we’re better off together. Always makes me smile and makes me laugh. Thanks for being a wonderful friend. To my favorite co-worker Linda Davis who I met while working nights and weekends at Rite Aid. I love your sense of humor and your wit!! You crack me up all the time!! You are so kind-hearted and even though there is quite an age difference between us, I consider you one of my closest friends. Thank you for coming to see me. To the Tanoris!!!! Melissa, Marissa, and Clarissa!!!! You girls have the biggest and kindest hearts!! You girls are so sweet I swear you are angels. Thank you for visiting me angels. Marybel, Vanessa, and Guano (Johana). You three are something else!! I feel like I wouldn’t be me without all three of you. I swear I never stop laughing when I’m around you three. We have stories that go way back and I hope to have many more with you. And to my family and the rest of my friends, thank you for all the phone calls. I know I told you not to come because I kept thinking I was going to leave the next day but had you known that I was going to be there longer, you would have came to visit. I know because you guys told me haha!! Everyone’s concern, prayers, visitations, and phone calls really made me appreciate all the love and blessings I have in my life. Thank you for everything.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Does This Mean I Can’t Wear My Sombrero in AZ Anymore?!!
Usually, I’m not much of a political writer. Mostly because there are no right or wrong answers with the issues. It’s an endless debate of trying to prove who’s right, who’s wrong, who’s got the best plan, who’s past is coming back to haunt them, etc, etc. But the new Arizona bill…………well………. that deserves a little bit of my attention. After all, it applies to me and millions of other hard-working legal and illegal immigrants in this country.
First off, let me just explain what the new Arizona bill means. Last Friday, Arizona Governor Jan Brewer signed a new bill that toughens the state’s immigration laws. The law doesn’t take in effect until a few months from now, but it’s got everyone criticizing it; including President Obama. If the U.S. President himself criticizes a new law questioning its legality, that should be the first hint to tell you that something is wrong. Unless it was Bush who was criticizing it haha!! No I’m just kidding with that last joke!!
The bill itself sets a new law in Arizona to “discourage and deter the unlawful entry and presence of aliens and economic activity.” Which basically means that if a person in Arizona looks like a "suspicious illegal immigrant" whether you're on your way to the market, or just out having a good time out with friends and family, an officer can question your status at any given moment. Let's hope everyone remembers their birth certificates and green cards!! (note the sarcasm) For a country that was and still is being built by immigrants, it is a huge slap in the face. And from a state that used to belong to Mexico, well, that’s an even BIGGER slap in the face!
With this new law being set into place, it will “put communities in the crosshairs by requiring state and local government workers to determine if a person is illegally in the U.S. based on a.jpg)
‘reasonable suspicion.’” Call me stupid but wouldn’t the only “reasonable suspicion” in Arizona be a………gee I don’t know………hmmmm………MEXICAN!! Why don’t they just re-name the bill “Keep the Mexicans Out of AZ!” This undoubtedly will result in racial profiling and discrimination “as it does not prohibit police officers from relying on race or ethnicity in deciding who to investigate.” And with Arizona 3 out of 10 people being Hispanic, I have a feeling the police are going to be quite busy once it takes into effect. Hmmm….I wonder if there will be more job openings for police in AZ soon? Well call me crazy, but I wouldn’t want to work as one anyway since it seems like I’d be hunting down my own people. Oh the betrayal!!
I think back to wonder, what kind of person would support such a law? Oh yea I know!! Someone like my former college dorm roommate who constantly made fun of my ethnicity until I couldn’t take it anymore!! I won’t say her name to prevent being sued with character defamation, but this young lady thought it was funny to say little jokes here and there about me being Mexican. I’m not one for confrontation and I believe ignorance is and will always be around us so I can take a racial punch here or there. However, the first insult was a little prick with a needle to my hand. The second insult was a jab at my family. But the third insult where she called me a “Fuckin’ Mexican” was the last straw. This bitch got a mandatory “Did You Really Just Say That? 101” course with me. My two other college roommates can confirm this battle of words as they watched with excitement. I’d like to think that maybe she learned a little from our argument. The main thing I tried to get through to her is that she has to respect people where they come from. And that she was lucky that I only reacted in an argumentative way. Who knows what would have happened to her if she told those jokes to another Mexican person and acted violently towards her for saying them? For the record, she’s half White and half Irish.
Now it seems a little obvious that maybe the “intelligent” Jan Brewer didn’t really think this bill through because of the major financial burden it will cost Arizona (notice the sarcasm here). According to an article I just read on reuters.com, “The costs to arrest, detain, process, and transport undocumented immigrants out of Arizona will drain local government treasuries. There were an estimated 460,000 undocumented immigrants in Arizona as of January 2009, making up to 4 percent of the state’s population. If the federal government were to handle the entire undocumented population, the cost would be approximately $23,148 per person, based on a recent study by the Center for American Progress.” Also, “Local taxpayers will bear the heavy costs of lengthy court litigation.”
With police focusing on who is legal or illegal in a state where 3 out of 10 people are “illegal-looking” ooops! I mean Mexicans, the responsibility of police is going to be greatly affected. “The Arizona Association of Chiefs of Police firmly opposes the law for fiscal and public safety reasons, noting that fear of government will diminish the public’s willingness to cooperate with police in criminal investigations and will ‘negatively affect the ability of law enforcement agencies across the state to fulfill their many responsibilities in a timely manner.’” If even the Chief of Police in Arizona is against it (even though it’s for fiscal and public safety reasons), then how in the hell does this ignorant Governor think that she can get away with this?!!
I understand that the law is to keep ALL illegal immigrants out under “reasonable suspicion” (i.e. Mexican looking), but are they really going to question a Canadian person from Canada who could be in Arizona illegally? Are they going to question a Jamaican from Jamaica? How about a Japanese person from Japan who somehow got to Arizona illegally? No!! All they will do is look at the brown color of their skin as they walk to the store or as they play at the park with their kids and demand to know their status.
It’s sad to say but this kind of reminds me of The Holocaust. Jan Brewer will be Hitler, the police will be the Nazis, The Mexicans (or all illegal immigrants) will be the Jewish victims, and the prisons will be the concentration camps sans genocide.
The fact that Congress hasn’t been able to ratify an inclusive immigration reform that restores border security could be the reason why this Arizona bill came to be. However, it is not the answer. It is ignorance, racism, and discrimination at its finest. It denies rights guaranteed in the U.S. Constitution. "It violates the civil and human rights of the Latino community. It goes against all human dignity, against the principles of most Americans I know" - Shakira. And excuse me for my foul language, but it’s un-fucking-believable. I apologize if I offend anyone. Thank you for reading.
sources:
http://www.americanprogress.org/
http://www.reuters.com/
http://www.yahoo.com/
First off, let me just explain what the new Arizona bill means. Last Friday, Arizona Governor Jan Brewer signed a new bill that toughens the state’s immigration laws. The law doesn’t take in effect until a few months from now, but it’s got everyone criticizing it; including President Obama. If the U.S. President himself criticizes a new law questioning its legality, that should be the first hint to tell you that something is wrong. Unless it was Bush who was criticizing it haha!! No I’m just kidding with that last joke!!
The bill itself sets a new law in Arizona to “discourage and deter the unlawful entry and presence of aliens and economic activity.” Which basically means that if a person in Arizona looks like a "suspicious illegal immigrant" whether you're on your way to the market, or just out having a good time out with friends and family, an officer can question your status at any given moment. Let's hope everyone remembers their birth certificates and green cards!! (note the sarcasm) For a country that was and still is being built by immigrants, it is a huge slap in the face. And from a state that used to belong to Mexico, well, that’s an even BIGGER slap in the face!
With this new law being set into place, it will “put communities in the crosshairs by requiring state and local government workers to determine if a person is illegally in the U.S. based on a
.jpg)
‘reasonable suspicion.’” Call me stupid but wouldn’t the only “reasonable suspicion” in Arizona be a………gee I don’t know………hmmmm………MEXICAN!! Why don’t they just re-name the bill “Keep the Mexicans Out of AZ!” This undoubtedly will result in racial profiling and discrimination “as it does not prohibit police officers from relying on race or ethnicity in deciding who to investigate.” And with Arizona 3 out of 10 people being Hispanic, I have a feeling the police are going to be quite busy once it takes into effect. Hmmm….I wonder if there will be more job openings for police in AZ soon? Well call me crazy, but I wouldn’t want to work as one anyway since it seems like I’d be hunting down my own people. Oh the betrayal!!I think back to wonder, what kind of person would support such a law? Oh yea I know!! Someone like my former college dorm roommate who constantly made fun of my ethnicity until I couldn’t take it anymore!! I won’t say her name to prevent being sued with character defamation, but this young lady thought it was funny to say little jokes here and there about me being Mexican. I’m not one for confrontation and I believe ignorance is and will always be around us so I can take a racial punch here or there. However, the first insult was a little prick with a needle to my hand. The second insult was a jab at my family. But the third insult where she called me a “Fuckin’ Mexican” was the last straw. This bitch got a mandatory “Did You Really Just Say That? 101” course with me. My two other college roommates can confirm this battle of words as they watched with excitement. I’d like to think that maybe she learned a little from our argument. The main thing I tried to get through to her is that she has to respect people where they come from. And that she was lucky that I only reacted in an argumentative way. Who knows what would have happened to her if she told those jokes to another Mexican person and acted violently towards her for saying them? For the record, she’s half White and half Irish.
Now it seems a little obvious that maybe the “intelligent” Jan Brewer didn’t really think this bill through because of the major financial burden it will cost Arizona (notice the sarcasm here). According to an article I just read on reuters.com, “The costs to arrest, detain, process, and transport undocumented immigrants out of Arizona will drain local government treasuries. There were an estimated 460,000 undocumented immigrants in Arizona as of January 2009, making up to 4 percent of the state’s population. If the federal government were to handle the entire undocumented population, the cost would be approximately $23,148 per person, based on a recent study by the Center for American Progress.” Also, “Local taxpayers will bear the heavy costs of lengthy court litigation.”
With police focusing on who is legal or illegal in a state where 3 out of 10 people are “illegal-looking” ooops! I mean Mexicans, the responsibility of police is going to be greatly affected. “The Arizona Association of Chiefs of Police firmly opposes the law for fiscal and public safety reasons, noting that fear of government will diminish the public’s willingness to cooperate with police in criminal investigations and will ‘negatively affect the ability of law enforcement agencies across the state to fulfill their many responsibilities in a timely manner.’” If even the Chief of Police in Arizona is against it (even though it’s for fiscal and public safety reasons), then how in the hell does this ignorant Governor think that she can get away with this?!!
I understand that the law is to keep ALL illegal immigrants out under “reasonable suspicion” (i.e. Mexican looking), but are they really going to question a Canadian person from Canada who could be in Arizona illegally? Are they going to question a Jamaican from Jamaica? How about a Japanese person from Japan who somehow got to Arizona illegally? No!! All they will do is look at the brown color of their skin as they walk to the store or as they play at the park with their kids and demand to know their status.It’s sad to say but this kind of reminds me of The Holocaust. Jan Brewer will be Hitler, the police will be the Nazis, The Mexicans (or all illegal immigrants) will be the Jewish victims, and the prisons will be the concentration camps sans genocide.
The fact that Congress hasn’t been able to ratify an inclusive immigration reform that restores border security could be the reason why this Arizona bill came to be. However, it is not the answer. It is ignorance, racism, and discrimination at its finest. It denies rights guaranteed in the U.S. Constitution. "It violates the civil and human rights of the Latino community. It goes against all human dignity, against the principles of most Americans I know" - Shakira. And excuse me for my foul language, but it’s un-fucking-believable. I apologize if I offend anyone. Thank you for reading.
sources:
http://www.americanprogress.org/
http://www.reuters.com/
http://www.yahoo.com/
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
NEW CAMPO…….YOU ROCKED MY WORLD!!
I'M ALL SHOOK UP!!
It’s obvious that I’m going to be talking about the recent earthquake activity. Especially the most recent 7.2 that happened on Easter Sunday 4/4/2010. Why not? Everyone else is anyway right haha!! Unfortunately, I didn’t feel it because I was driving on the
78 East on my way to my apartment. I say unfortunately because with all this talk about this major earthquake, I kind of feel left out that I didn’t even feel it!! Yesterday, everyone kept asking me “Did you feel it? Did you feel it?” And I answered “Feel what?” I’m sure that if I was on solid steady ground and actually felt it, I would have been as freaked as the rest of you. But this earthquake triggered a lot of memories from when my family and I used to live in Nuevo Campo (new campo) in Brawley. Our world always rocked there!!
I’ve explained this before, but just in case you didn’t already know……Nuevo Campo (new campo) is a pretty large low-income apartment complex located right next to the projects in Brawley, CA. I always called them the “fancy projects” because they were two-story and way
bigger than the actual projects. As far as I can remember, my family and I spent approximately 8 years living there until my parents were able to build their own home in a different part of the city. I believe I was a few months old when we moved into Nuevo Campo and moved into our own home when I was 8 or 9 years old.
Every now and then when I visit Brawley, I’ll drive by around the complex and remember all my childhood memories from there. I think I’m still so emotionally attached to that place because of the memories we have with my late dad and brother. I had such a great childhood growing up in Nuevo Campo, that even today, I can’t help but reminisce and smile everytime I pass by it. And even though my parents didn’t have money to buy me or the rest of my siblings all these expensive clothes and toys, I never felt like I was missing anything. I always felt content with everything I had. Yea maybe I
might have wanted something here or there, but I always knew, without it being explained to me, that I had everything I needed. Especially the love of my family.
All this talk about the recent earthquakes really reminded me back to when we were living in new campo and there were constant earthquakes all the time. I don’t ever remember being scared of them but I do remember that they were so bad that we would often sleep in the living room pull-out bed with the door cracked just a little bit open. That’s when new campo used to be safe. Nowadays, it’s full of crime and gang activity…..so I’ve heard. They would especially happen at night and as soon as everything would rumble, my mom, dad, older brothers and sisters would rush outside in our pajamas and stay out there with the rest of the neighbors until
everything settled down. I remember one particular night when my sister Rosa and her family were visiting us during thanksgiving and Christmas. I believe I was 7 or 8 years old when this happened. My sister Rosa was in the kitchen standing next to the stove; my mom and I were sitting at the dining table when suddenly we felt a rumbling earthquake. It wasn’t a big one but wasn’t as small one either. I turn to look at my sister Rosa and she had this confused look on her face and asked “Ama, por que se esta moviendo la casa?” (Mom, why is the house moving?) I never asked her this but I’ve always wanted to know if that was her first earthquake.
I’ve experienced pretty heavy earthquakes living in Brawley and I can surely say that I’m not too afraid of them. I think the one thing that does scare me about them is the noise they cause. The loud booming and rumbling noise that sounds like a monster is after you. Not too long ago before I moved out of my mom’s house, I was in my bedroom with Marybel (niece), Vanessa (sister), Johana (nother niece), and Andrea (best friend)
having a girl to girl conversation. We were just there chatting it up when we hear and feel this rumbling. The water in my huge fish tank began to move. We all got quiet out of shock and I began to say “Ok, it’s just an earthquake. Let’s just go outside….” and boom!! It got bigger and louder and all the girls panicked running out the door before I even got a chance to get out of my chair. I grabbed my dog Bitsey and joined everyone else outside. The fact that I was able to remain calm in that earthquake leads me to believe that maybe I would have been able to handle this big one that just hit our town.
Scientists claim that they can predict when another earthquake will hit or give us a range of days as to when to wait for another one. But in all honestly, no one, not even the smartest person on he planet, can predict when Mother Nature will act up. A lot of people are arguing that the recent spike in earthquakes has a lot to do with the Mayan calendar that predicts the end of the world
on December 12, 2012. I personally don’t believe the world will end based on an ancient calendar. If anything, the world is already slowly being destroyed with the causes of global warming. However, even if philosophers and astrologers have been proven right such as Nostradamus with connection to 9/11, nothing can destroy the world but only the human hand. And we are already doing that with pollution. And who knows…..maybe these earthquakes are also a reaction to the evolution of the planet. It has been said that Venus was once like planet Earth that eventually evolved into the planet it is today. Maybe Earth is slowly running its course. After all, everything has an expiration date. What do you think?
It’s obvious that I’m going to be talking about the recent earthquake activity. Especially the most recent 7.2 that happened on Easter Sunday 4/4/2010. Why not? Everyone else is anyway right haha!! Unfortunately, I didn’t feel it because I was driving on the
78 East on my way to my apartment. I say unfortunately because with all this talk about this major earthquake, I kind of feel left out that I didn’t even feel it!! Yesterday, everyone kept asking me “Did you feel it? Did you feel it?” And I answered “Feel what?” I’m sure that if I was on solid steady ground and actually felt it, I would have been as freaked as the rest of you. But this earthquake triggered a lot of memories from when my family and I used to live in Nuevo Campo (new campo) in Brawley. Our world always rocked there!!I’ve explained this before, but just in case you didn’t already know……Nuevo Campo (new campo) is a pretty large low-income apartment complex located right next to the projects in Brawley, CA. I always called them the “fancy projects” because they were two-story and way
bigger than the actual projects. As far as I can remember, my family and I spent approximately 8 years living there until my parents were able to build their own home in a different part of the city. I believe I was a few months old when we moved into Nuevo Campo and moved into our own home when I was 8 or 9 years old.Every now and then when I visit Brawley, I’ll drive by around the complex and remember all my childhood memories from there. I think I’m still so emotionally attached to that place because of the memories we have with my late dad and brother. I had such a great childhood growing up in Nuevo Campo, that even today, I can’t help but reminisce and smile everytime I pass by it. And even though my parents didn’t have money to buy me or the rest of my siblings all these expensive clothes and toys, I never felt like I was missing anything. I always felt content with everything I had. Yea maybe I
might have wanted something here or there, but I always knew, without it being explained to me, that I had everything I needed. Especially the love of my family.All this talk about the recent earthquakes really reminded me back to when we were living in new campo and there were constant earthquakes all the time. I don’t ever remember being scared of them but I do remember that they were so bad that we would often sleep in the living room pull-out bed with the door cracked just a little bit open. That’s when new campo used to be safe. Nowadays, it’s full of crime and gang activity…..so I’ve heard. They would especially happen at night and as soon as everything would rumble, my mom, dad, older brothers and sisters would rush outside in our pajamas and stay out there with the rest of the neighbors until
everything settled down. I remember one particular night when my sister Rosa and her family were visiting us during thanksgiving and Christmas. I believe I was 7 or 8 years old when this happened. My sister Rosa was in the kitchen standing next to the stove; my mom and I were sitting at the dining table when suddenly we felt a rumbling earthquake. It wasn’t a big one but wasn’t as small one either. I turn to look at my sister Rosa and she had this confused look on her face and asked “Ama, por que se esta moviendo la casa?” (Mom, why is the house moving?) I never asked her this but I’ve always wanted to know if that was her first earthquake.I’ve experienced pretty heavy earthquakes living in Brawley and I can surely say that I’m not too afraid of them. I think the one thing that does scare me about them is the noise they cause. The loud booming and rumbling noise that sounds like a monster is after you. Not too long ago before I moved out of my mom’s house, I was in my bedroom with Marybel (niece), Vanessa (sister), Johana (nother niece), and Andrea (best friend)
having a girl to girl conversation. We were just there chatting it up when we hear and feel this rumbling. The water in my huge fish tank began to move. We all got quiet out of shock and I began to say “Ok, it’s just an earthquake. Let’s just go outside….” and boom!! It got bigger and louder and all the girls panicked running out the door before I even got a chance to get out of my chair. I grabbed my dog Bitsey and joined everyone else outside. The fact that I was able to remain calm in that earthquake leads me to believe that maybe I would have been able to handle this big one that just hit our town.Scientists claim that they can predict when another earthquake will hit or give us a range of days as to when to wait for another one. But in all honestly, no one, not even the smartest person on he planet, can predict when Mother Nature will act up. A lot of people are arguing that the recent spike in earthquakes has a lot to do with the Mayan calendar that predicts the end of the world
on December 12, 2012. I personally don’t believe the world will end based on an ancient calendar. If anything, the world is already slowly being destroyed with the causes of global warming. However, even if philosophers and astrologers have been proven right such as Nostradamus with connection to 9/11, nothing can destroy the world but only the human hand. And we are already doing that with pollution. And who knows…..maybe these earthquakes are also a reaction to the evolution of the planet. It has been said that Venus was once like planet Earth that eventually evolved into the planet it is today. Maybe Earth is slowly running its course. After all, everything has an expiration date. What do you think?
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
This Is For My Brother Edgar :o)
A lot of my friends and family know that I often write from experience and perspectives in life. Many of the things that inspire me to write are loved ones and other things I may be passionate about. Every now and then, I’ll dabble in a funny story about my mom, other family members, or my friends. But for now, I really want to write about someone I am very proud of and love very much…….my brother Edgar.
He may or may not like the idea that I’m writing about him, but I’m hoping he gives me a chance to say what I want to say. Because honestly, he deserves more credit than what is written on this page.
Edgar and I grew up very close to age. He’s only a year and one month older than me so the fact that we were really close as kids was pretty much a given. When we were growing up in new campo we would always be competitive about almost anything. From running to mom and dad’s station wagon and see who gets there first on our way to the store, to competing who would get dressed for school the quickest in the mornings. One of my most memorable memories when we were kids was the fact that people kept mistaking us for twins. Everywhere we went, people always thought we were twins. Even his baseball coaches would
tell me “Hey, when Edgar gets sick and can’t play, cover your hair with his cap and take his place!”
Looking so much like him kind of made me a bit of his shadow, especially in school, but it never made me feel disappointed or embarrassed. When I started jr. high, I remember his former teachers would say “Oh! You’re Edgar’s sister? Wow, you look so much alike.” Or, my favorite one that would always come up (note the sarcasm here), “Everyone, this is a great example of what I want all of you to do with your work (holds up papers). Jessenia this is your brother’s report from last year. See the detail and fine work? Just like this.” I doubt Mrs. Kellogg, mutual Biology and Anatomy & Physiology teacher, ever praised my work and said the same. I wish I
was as smart as Edgar. I don’t know if this is true because I’ve never asked him, but it always looked like everything came so easy to him. I had endless hours of sitting on the living room floor working on homework, while he took an hour or two at the dining table and ends up graduating #9 out of his entire high school class. I was #83, which says a lot. I had to fight for that #83 spot!!
Friends come really easy to him. Like today, he’s very social and easy to get along with. He may have a lot of friends, but he’s got this certain group of friends that have always been there for him. I know that when our dad died our brother Chava was
there to help us and mom get through it. But when we lost Chava, I feel as though his friends gave him a comfort that nobody else could. And for that I am very grateful. If I miss someone, I apologize – Raymond, Pete, Lodi (Jose), Monster (Richard),
and everyone else that was there and still is – Thank you. I know our mom has always seen that he is surrounded by great friends. You guys have been a part of his life for so long that one drunken Christmas Eve night a few years ago, Pete told me “Man, you guys are the best. You guys are like my second family. I love all of you.” Sorry Pete! I had to include this!!
Around the time when Edgar was going to be leaving for college, I remember how excited I was to finally not fight over the bathroom in the mornings. I had usually used mom’s bathroom but really wanted the hall one because it was bigger. I know it sounds totally mean, but I was just looking forward to having that bathroom to myself from that
day on!! Not once did I think about how much I was going to miss him. Yes, we did have brother-sister fights, many that I regret and didn’t mean, but I didn’t think about how I was going to feel once he left. I guess my emotional reaction to him graduating high school said it all. I couldn’t find him on the field where the ceremony was taking place because it was packed full of people with their loved ones. But once I spotted him, I ran to him, buried my face in his chest and cried my eyes out. I was just so damn proud.
The day came to help him move into his own apartment and a lot of us went. He was going to be attending Cal Poly Pomona so a lot of us went to help him get set up. If I remember correctly, my mom went, three of my sisters, and Chava too. Lupe helped set up his kitchen while some of us complained about how small it was. When it was time to leave, I remember getting this somber feeling over me and came to the sudden realization that we were no longer going to live together. I gave him a big hug, got into my sisters car, and fought back tears as we drove away. I never told him this because God forbid I tell my brother that I love him (again – sarcasm). The house no longer felt complete after that. There was always something missing. His spirit was away at school and I missed him terribly. One night, my mom was lying on her bed watching TV in her room when I walked in, hugged her, and told her that I missed Edgar so much. All she could do is hug me back and say “Yo tambien, mija” (me too). And he still doesn’t know this, so this is the first time he’s finding out about everything through this blog.
When his college graduation came, it was another moment of fighting back tears because I didn’t want anyone to see that I was such a chillona (cry baby). I kept my sunglasses on and got as close as I could possibly get for his pictures. Many people don’t know this, but Edgar has a tremendous heart. Especially for our mother. I wish I could help mom out the way he does. But I’m not there yet and when I am, I’ll only try my hardest to measure up to him as much as I can.
He may not be very vocal about the love he has for everyone in his life, but his actions speak louder than anything. I remember a conversation we once had when he told me “I just want to take care of mom and you guys.” I’ve never forgotten those words. I probably never will. With his birthday coming up, a baby on the way, and a beautiful future with Jeannette, I couldn’t be more proud and excited to have him as my brother. I know! Cheesy right! But oh so very true. I love you brother.
Your sister,
Chena :o)
(Jessenia Lua)
He may or may not like the idea that I’m writing about him, but I’m hoping he gives me a chance to say what I want to say. Because honestly, he deserves more credit than what is written on this page.
Edgar and I grew up very close to age. He’s only a year and one month older than me so the fact that we were really close as kids was pretty much a given. When we were growing up in new campo we would always be competitive about almost anything. From running to mom and dad’s station wagon and see who gets there first on our way to the store, to competing who would get dressed for school the quickest in the mornings. One of my most memorable memories when we were kids was the fact that people kept mistaking us for twins. Everywhere we went, people always thought we were twins. Even his baseball coaches would
tell me “Hey, when Edgar gets sick and can’t play, cover your hair with his cap and take his place!”Looking so much like him kind of made me a bit of his shadow, especially in school, but it never made me feel disappointed or embarrassed. When I started jr. high, I remember his former teachers would say “Oh! You’re Edgar’s sister? Wow, you look so much alike.” Or, my favorite one that would always come up (note the sarcasm here), “Everyone, this is a great example of what I want all of you to do with your work (holds up papers). Jessenia this is your brother’s report from last year. See the detail and fine work? Just like this.” I doubt Mrs. Kellogg, mutual Biology and Anatomy & Physiology teacher, ever praised my work and said the same. I wish I
was as smart as Edgar. I don’t know if this is true because I’ve never asked him, but it always looked like everything came so easy to him. I had endless hours of sitting on the living room floor working on homework, while he took an hour or two at the dining table and ends up graduating #9 out of his entire high school class. I was #83, which says a lot. I had to fight for that #83 spot!!Friends come really easy to him. Like today, he’s very social and easy to get along with. He may have a lot of friends, but he’s got this certain group of friends that have always been there for him. I know that when our dad died our brother Chava was
there to help us and mom get through it. But when we lost Chava, I feel as though his friends gave him a comfort that nobody else could. And for that I am very grateful. If I miss someone, I apologize – Raymond, Pete, Lodi (Jose), Monster (Richard),
and everyone else that was there and still is – Thank you. I know our mom has always seen that he is surrounded by great friends. You guys have been a part of his life for so long that one drunken Christmas Eve night a few years ago, Pete told me “Man, you guys are the best. You guys are like my second family. I love all of you.” Sorry Pete! I had to include this!!Around the time when Edgar was going to be leaving for college, I remember how excited I was to finally not fight over the bathroom in the mornings. I had usually used mom’s bathroom but really wanted the hall one because it was bigger. I know it sounds totally mean, but I was just looking forward to having that bathroom to myself from that
day on!! Not once did I think about how much I was going to miss him. Yes, we did have brother-sister fights, many that I regret and didn’t mean, but I didn’t think about how I was going to feel once he left. I guess my emotional reaction to him graduating high school said it all. I couldn’t find him on the field where the ceremony was taking place because it was packed full of people with their loved ones. But once I spotted him, I ran to him, buried my face in his chest and cried my eyes out. I was just so damn proud.The day came to help him move into his own apartment and a lot of us went. He was going to be attending Cal Poly Pomona so a lot of us went to help him get set up. If I remember correctly, my mom went, three of my sisters, and Chava too. Lupe helped set up his kitchen while some of us complained about how small it was. When it was time to leave, I remember getting this somber feeling over me and came to the sudden realization that we were no longer going to live together. I gave him a big hug, got into my sisters car, and fought back tears as we drove away. I never told him this because God forbid I tell my brother that I love him (again – sarcasm). The house no longer felt complete after that. There was always something missing. His spirit was away at school and I missed him terribly. One night, my mom was lying on her bed watching TV in her room when I walked in, hugged her, and told her that I missed Edgar so much. All she could do is hug me back and say “Yo tambien, mija” (me too). And he still doesn’t know this, so this is the first time he’s finding out about everything through this blog.
When his college graduation came, it was another moment of fighting back tears because I didn’t want anyone to see that I was such a chillona (cry baby). I kept my sunglasses on and got as close as I could possibly get for his pictures. Many people don’t know this, but Edgar has a tremendous heart. Especially for our mother. I wish I could help mom out the way he does. But I’m not there yet and when I am, I’ll only try my hardest to measure up to him as much as I can.
He may not be very vocal about the love he has for everyone in his life, but his actions speak louder than anything. I remember a conversation we once had when he told me “I just want to take care of mom and you guys.” I’ve never forgotten those words. I probably never will. With his birthday coming up, a baby on the way, and a beautiful future with Jeannette, I couldn’t be more proud and excited to have him as my brother. I know! Cheesy right! But oh so very true. I love you brother.Your sister,
Chena :o)
(Jessenia Lua)
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
THOU SHALT NOT JUDGE!!
I know it’s been a while since my last blog and I apologize to my loyal readers for the inconsistency. Many factors contribute to the little attention I’ve paid it in the last couple months. I’ve got plenty of ideas to write about, however, school, work, and friends make it a little difficult to write sometimes. It seems that lately, however, I can’t stop thinking about the words “judge” “to judge” “we judge” “I judge.”
I consider myself to have an open mind and accept things as they come. But at the same time, I know what ignorance is and along with that comes disrespect and demeaning someone for their own different beliefs. I always try not to judge anyone for the sake of not wanting anyone to judge me. But let’s face it, judging someone is almost like an instinct inside you. If you see something out of the norm, you are going to automatically judge the situation because you’re not used to it. Acting on that judgment is what disrespects and demeans what’s different from you. When someone acts negatively on a judgment, that person is automatically categorizing themselves better (or on a social class - higher class) than the person they are judging. True, people can have their opinions but, give them only when asked upon. There’s no point in maliciously telling something what you think if it’s going to hurt them.
I feel as though I’ve been around a lot and have experienced enough things in my life to not be judgmental towards anyone or anything. Yes, I did judge on first time experiences but it’s learning to accept things as they are that stops someone from falsely judging someone else. The thing that surprises me, however, is how judgmental a person can be going through life as similar as mine. One person can view and experience life just like me but still judge someone and or look down upon them because they are different people and have different beliefs. I have a few friends in my life who are quite judgmental and have spoken down upon the things that I wouldn’t normally care for. I won’t say who for the sake of their privacy, but it’s no one’s place and position to judge anyone else. When I hear these friends of mine complain and say hurtful things about how this or that person live their life, I leave it alone and am there to solely listen. I accept the fact that they are judgmental people. Nobody can change anyone unless they change for themselves.
I do want to mention one person who is so open-hearted that I hope I am as open-hearted as she is. I have a dear friend who I’ve known for
so long (and again I won’t say who even though I wish I could) that is so sweet and caring towards everyone in her life. She’s been with me on a few occasions where I guess you could say things out of her norm have occurred and she not once judged whatsoever. It’s like her spirit has this kind of openness in her heart to accept people for who they are even if they are the complete opposite of her. I also find this kind of openness in a young family member of mine (won’t say who) and I’m glad that she is growing up to be so accepting of life around her because like I’ve said before “we are no one to judge.”
I think we sometimes spend too much time worrying about what people say, how people live, what people believe in, that it loses the focus on the most importing thing……yourself. To me, there is one religion and that’s God. Even if you don't believe in Him and have your own views of a spiritual life. If you practice this religion or that religion, that’s great for you. Just don’t talk down to someone for practicing something different. To me, there is one love and that’s without worrying what race people are. Love has no borders. Love is color blind. To me, I am as equal to you whether you are rich or poor. To me, a world sans judgment……………well that’s impossible. But it doesn’t hurt to dream. My name is Jessenia Lua, and I have judged in the past. Have you?
I consider myself to have an open mind and accept things as they come. But at the same time, I know what ignorance is and along with that comes disrespect and demeaning someone for their own different beliefs. I always try not to judge anyone for the sake of not wanting anyone to judge me. But let’s face it, judging someone is almost like an instinct inside you. If you see something out of the norm, you are going to automatically judge the situation because you’re not used to it. Acting on that judgment is what disrespects and demeans what’s different from you. When someone acts negatively on a judgment, that person is automatically categorizing themselves better (or on a social class - higher class) than the person they are judging. True, people can have their opinions but, give them only when asked upon. There’s no point in maliciously telling something what you think if it’s going to hurt them.
I feel as though I’ve been around a lot and have experienced enough things in my life to not be judgmental towards anyone or anything. Yes, I did judge on first time experiences but it’s learning to accept things as they are that stops someone from falsely judging someone else. The thing that surprises me, however, is how judgmental a person can be going through life as similar as mine. One person can view and experience life just like me but still judge someone and or look down upon them because they are different people and have different beliefs. I have a few friends in my life who are quite judgmental and have spoken down upon the things that I wouldn’t normally care for. I won’t say who for the sake of their privacy, but it’s no one’s place and position to judge anyone else. When I hear these friends of mine complain and say hurtful things about how this or that person live their life, I leave it alone and am there to solely listen. I accept the fact that they are judgmental people. Nobody can change anyone unless they change for themselves.
I do want to mention one person who is so open-hearted that I hope I am as open-hearted as she is. I have a dear friend who I’ve known for
so long (and again I won’t say who even though I wish I could) that is so sweet and caring towards everyone in her life. She’s been with me on a few occasions where I guess you could say things out of her norm have occurred and she not once judged whatsoever. It’s like her spirit has this kind of openness in her heart to accept people for who they are even if they are the complete opposite of her. I also find this kind of openness in a young family member of mine (won’t say who) and I’m glad that she is growing up to be so accepting of life around her because like I’ve said before “we are no one to judge.”I think we sometimes spend too much time worrying about what people say, how people live, what people believe in, that it loses the focus on the most importing thing……yourself. To me, there is one religion and that’s God. Even if you don't believe in Him and have your own views of a spiritual life. If you practice this religion or that religion, that’s great for you. Just don’t talk down to someone for practicing something different. To me, there is one love and that’s without worrying what race people are. Love has no borders. Love is color blind. To me, I am as equal to you whether you are rich or poor. To me, a world sans judgment……………well that’s impossible. But it doesn’t hurt to dream. My name is Jessenia Lua, and I have judged in the past. Have you?
A Little Poetry :o)
Here are a few poems I wrote not too long ago. I wanted to play around with words and see what I can come up with. The last two pieces are a little deeper as far as emotion goes. I don't normally write peoms like this but just wanted to give it a try. And the peom titled "Yearn" is actually a sonnet that took me a week and a half to complete. It's written in Shakespear form with a little modern twist. It is my favorite thus far!! And I hope I get to write many more like these!! Enjoy!!
"Yearn"
Thou’s yearning heart beats for thee
While misty eyes collect in me
Thy one true love from afar
Come to me from where you are
Thou dreams of thee in solitude
I hand you all my gratitude
Thy weeping soul cannot bear
So I sing my words into the air
As night skies collect my prayers
I hold thee’s love with all thy cares
Til dawn I weep for thy true love
Let Gods hear thy yearn above
Render all thy soul and being
Your love will be thy cursed life freeing
By: Jessenia Lua
"Sweet Divine"
Such sweet divine
Beautiful eyes
I seek the truth
Behind your lies
Deceit and sorrow
Begin to follow
My wondering thoughts
So deep and hollow
I praise the Gods
Heal my pain
But with these odds
I fear the rain
Tears fall down
I may just drown
Take my heart
This vicious hound
Do I just fight?
Do I give in?
Please forgive
My evil sins
Such sweet divine
Wonderful cries
So filled with lies
A part of me dies
You beg and plead
Pity you need
You fail to see
I hold this creed
Despite this hurt
I stay alert
Yet you deny
The love inside
You hear me cry
My sweet divine
Look inside
My sweet divine
Forever mine
Sweet divine
You, YOU and I!
…(pause).....
Sweet divine
Sweet divine
By: Jessenia Lua
"I Manipulate"
I manipulate me
I encourage me
I disappoint me
I manipulate me
I motivate me
I despise me
I manipulate me
I cry for me
I loathe me
I manipulate me
I smile at me
I am ok with me
I manipulate me
I try for me
I fail for me
I manipulate me
I focus me
I stop me
I manipulate me
You see me smile
I see me frown
I manipulate me
You proud of me
I embellish me
I manipulate you
I manipulate me
I’m not always what you think you see
I am sorry
For I.....
I manipulate me
By: Jessenia Lua
"Yearn"
Thou’s yearning heart beats for thee
While misty eyes collect in me
Thy one true love from afar
Come to me from where you are
Thou dreams of thee in solitude
I hand you all my gratitude
Thy weeping soul cannot bear
So I sing my words into the air
As night skies collect my prayers
I hold thee’s love with all thy cares
Til dawn I weep for thy true love
Let Gods hear thy yearn above
Render all thy soul and being
Your love will be thy cursed life freeing
By: Jessenia Lua
"Sweet Divine"
Such sweet divine
Beautiful eyes
I seek the truth
Behind your lies
Deceit and sorrow
Begin to follow
My wondering thoughts
So deep and hollow
I praise the Gods
Heal my pain
But with these odds
I fear the rain
Tears fall down
I may just drown
Take my heart
This vicious hound
Do I just fight?
Do I give in?
Please forgive
My evil sins
Such sweet divine
Wonderful cries
So filled with lies
A part of me dies
You beg and plead
Pity you need
You fail to see
I hold this creed
Despite this hurt
I stay alert
Yet you deny
The love inside
You hear me cry
My sweet divine
Look inside
My sweet divine
Forever mine
Sweet divine
You, YOU and I!
…(pause).....
Sweet divine
Sweet divine
By: Jessenia Lua
"I Manipulate"
I manipulate me
I encourage me
I disappoint me
I manipulate me
I motivate me
I despise me
I manipulate me
I cry for me
I loathe me
I manipulate me
I smile at me
I am ok with me
I manipulate me
I try for me
I fail for me
I manipulate me
I focus me
I stop me
I manipulate me
You see me smile
I see me frown
I manipulate me
You proud of me
I embellish me
I manipulate you
I manipulate me
I’m not always what you think you see
I am sorry
For I.....
I manipulate me
By: Jessenia Lua
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Capital Punishment: To Kill or not to Kill? What a stupid question!
Ever since I can remember, back in my high school days, I’ve always had a strong opinion on capital punishment. I specifically remember in my sophomore year in high school in Mr. Dibb’s English class where I formed a class discussion on the subject. To this day I still stand behind my opinion on it, and though people may not agree with me, I’m open to their opinion. Yes, it is a controversial topic, and I believe that there will never be a right or wrong answer. Just a decision that is made in the process. However, a decision that always costs someone’s life.
Let me start by saying that NO! I don’t believe in capital punishment and here’s why…….
I find that capital punishment (i.e. the death penalty) is a contradiction to the governments own rules and commandments. How is it possible for a government to decide to kill someone when no other person in the world has that right? What gives them that permission to take the life of that criminal who committed that crime? Should we consider the government to be criminals when they kill these criminals? No one has the right to say who lives or dies. Not even the government.
Now, the question “Well does he/she deserve it?” comes to mind. I personally (and
morally) agree and don’t believe any person should be killed by another person (or in this case, any governmental organization) under any circumstances whatsoever. Whenever I state this last sentence of mine, I always get the following: “But what if he/she killed someone you know? What if he/she killed someone you love? What if he/she killed hundreds of people?” After hearing those questions, I’m not going to say that my belief on it is not going to alter because I personally (and thankfully) have never been in that situation. I believe that if I were to ever go through that situation (hopefully not), I might change my mind. Key word here is “might.” We make our life decisions on experiences and this is one thing I would consider changing my mind about if I would ever experience it.
I think of myself as a forgiving person and often give people many chances. However, should I ever be in this situation, I don’t know if I could or would have the courage and strength to forgive and allow the killer to stay alive in prison. As of now, I stand behind my decision to never allow the death penalty as punishment to a crime and I hope I never get to find out if I would change my mind.
Another reason why I don’t believe in the death penalty is because I feel that it is an easy way out to the crime committed. I see giving the death penalty to a convicted murderer as an easy way out. Because once you’re out of this world, what’s left for remorse? Who carries that guilt when the government kills the criminal that should? This is why many families of victims say that they feel the same after the criminal who committed the murder of their loved one got executed because of the judicial decision. They don’t feel justices. They don’t feel peace. Executing that criminal will not bring their loved one back.
And lets not forget about wrongful execution. According to my research, as many as 39 innocent lives have been executed since forming capital punishment. I’m sure there are way more. Especially with the advances of detecting DNA. Since 1992, more than 15 death row inmates have been exonerated thanks to the advancement of technology. So I’m quite positive that more than 39 innocent lives have been executed. No one (not even the government) should decide who gets to die. I understand that this may be a sensitive subject, so I apologize if I offend anyone. This is just a mere way of expressing my opinion on this matter. Thank you for reading.
Let me start by saying that NO! I don’t believe in capital punishment and here’s why…….
I find that capital punishment (i.e. the death penalty) is a contradiction to the governments own rules and commandments. How is it possible for a government to decide to kill someone when no other person in the world has that right? What gives them that permission to take the life of that criminal who committed that crime? Should we consider the government to be criminals when they kill these criminals? No one has the right to say who lives or dies. Not even the government.
Now, the question “Well does he/she deserve it?” comes to mind. I personally (and
morally) agree and don’t believe any person should be killed by another person (or in this case, any governmental organization) under any circumstances whatsoever. Whenever I state this last sentence of mine, I always get the following: “But what if he/she killed someone you know? What if he/she killed someone you love? What if he/she killed hundreds of people?” After hearing those questions, I’m not going to say that my belief on it is not going to alter because I personally (and thankfully) have never been in that situation. I believe that if I were to ever go through that situation (hopefully not), I might change my mind. Key word here is “might.” We make our life decisions on experiences and this is one thing I would consider changing my mind about if I would ever experience it.I think of myself as a forgiving person and often give people many chances. However, should I ever be in this situation, I don’t know if I could or would have the courage and strength to forgive and allow the killer to stay alive in prison. As of now, I stand behind my decision to never allow the death penalty as punishment to a crime and I hope I never get to find out if I would change my mind.
Another reason why I don’t believe in the death penalty is because I feel that it is an easy way out to the crime committed. I see giving the death penalty to a convicted murderer as an easy way out. Because once you’re out of this world, what’s left for remorse? Who carries that guilt when the government kills the criminal that should? This is why many families of victims say that they feel the same after the criminal who committed the murder of their loved one got executed because of the judicial decision. They don’t feel justices. They don’t feel peace. Executing that criminal will not bring their loved one back.
And lets not forget about wrongful execution. According to my research, as many as 39 innocent lives have been executed since forming capital punishment. I’m sure there are way more. Especially with the advances of detecting DNA. Since 1992, more than 15 death row inmates have been exonerated thanks to the advancement of technology. So I’m quite positive that more than 39 innocent lives have been executed. No one (not even the government) should decide who gets to die. I understand that this may be a sensitive subject, so I apologize if I offend anyone. This is just a mere way of expressing my opinion on this matter. Thank you for reading.
You See, The Thing About Brawley Is……
During my last trip to Brawley (Christmas) I did a lot of observing around the town and started to realize how much I miss it sometimes. When I was in high school, I swore to my
self that I would move far away and never look back. Well, except during holidays and visitations to my family. I had this picture in my mind that I would live in a big city like San Diego, Los Angeles, and New York. My senior year came and I knew that whichever farthest college accepted me, I would go. My first acceptance letter came from San Francisco State University. I was beyond excited! But by the time graduation came, two more college acceptances, and one rejection, I wasn’t ready to leave. And even though I swore to my best friend Andrea that I would never go to I.V.C. (Imperial Valley College – local community college), I ended up there my first two years of college. I remember not feeling disappointed and not regretting leaving Brawley right after high school. While attending I.V.C., I still had dreams of living somewhere far away and working in the big city. But………when it came to applying to colleges to transfer, I kind of wanted to stay somewhere close. And now that I look back at it, what was I trying to get away from?
Brawley is like the sweater that keeps you warm in the cold, the fresh fountain drink that cools you in the heat (well in this case, very bad heat), and the place where everybody knows everybody. It’s a place where no matter who you are, you will get a smile from strangers. You could even get a smile from the homeless people who hang outside the donut shop. After they ask you for some change of course. It’s where Johnny’s was first created, where we spend a dollar a day for sweat tea with sugar and lemon from the donut shop, and where every November we host our annual Cattle Call Rodeo and everyone dresses up as a cowboy. And even though sand rats invade all of our gas stations during their Glamis trips, it’s ok because Brawley is very welcoming to its outsiders.
So, when it was time to transfer from IVC, I quickly realized that I needed to transfer somewhere that was close enough. I wanted to go to school somewhere close enough to drive home in an emergency or just when I felt like seeing my family. I, like many Imperial County kids, opted for SDSU. However, SDSU did not opt for me. Twice!! Once in high school and again transferring out of IVC. Yes, it was disappointing but if it weren’t for their rejection I wouldn’t have had the wonderful opportunities CSUSM has brought me.
So now that I’ve been out of Brawley for six years, I find myself wondering if I’ll ever move back. To be honest, I think one day I will, but not any time soon. I still have those dreams of living in the “big city.” Except that the “big city” is now in another country. As I pursue my ambition for higher education and a fantastic writing career, I plan on traveling when I turn 30 and living in a different country each year. And while I’m in a different country each year experiencing new cultures and learning new languages, I will be thinking about the small town of Brawley, Ca. Nowhere else will it take two minutes to get to the bank. In my current city, if I want to go to the bank, it will take me about 10 minutes even though the bank is as far from my apartment as it is in Brawley from my mom’s house where I grew up.
But what makes Brawley so special is its homely feeling one gets when living or visiting there. I always
say that it’s a great place to raise kids. Not that I’ll ever have any. Sorry mom! But I do plan on possibly retiring there. Even though it’s a small little town with not much going on, the people there are very hard to forget. I mean look at us!! We were so bored with Brawley that we even made sand fun with Glamis! We even created Dippy Duck because too many kids were bored and started swimming in the canals. The small things don’t make Brawley. It’s the people who make Brawley. What better to have than to be surrounded by people who all want the same thing? A home. Brawley is home. And even as it grows, just like when it got its own Wal-Mart, we remain humble and welcoming.
I remember the first time I left Brawley. I was 20 and moved into the dorms at CSUSM on August 2003. I purposely decided not to go to Brawley until the following Thanksgiving so that I can well-adjust myself living in a new city and learn how to be on my own without my family and friends. Needless to say, I didn’t last :( I surprised everyone on a Friday night when my family was celebrating my sisters Lupe and Vanessa’s birthday, which is right before Halloween. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming and just showed up. I always remember that night so vividly. As I drove in from the 86 by the hospital, my heart began to race and I started to think “Man! It’s been two months and it already looks different!” I pulled into my mom’s house where the celebration was taking place and I heard someone say “Is that Chena!?” (Chena is my family knick name). I come out of the car and I hear “IT IS CHENA!!” It was the most beautiful welcome I had ever received! It almost made me cry. My mom, my sisters, my brother in-laws, my nieces, my nephews, (I don’t think Edgar was there at the time), and even my dog all welcomed me with big hugs! When I walked into the house and saw Lupe’s reaction, my heart just melted with the all the love I felt. Even Andrea (my best friend of 13 years and who everyone in my family calls “the adopted one”) was there celebrating the birthdays with my family. That’s how welcoming everyone is. Later on that night I remember Lupe telling me “I was just thinking earlier today how much I wish you were here with us. You really made my birthday sister!” I know! I totally felt a little popular in that moment haha! And like the luckiest person in the world to have people like them around me.
So even though I wanted to move away from a small town like Brawley, it still has my heart. And I’m sure a lot of my peers would agree. Why do you think so many of us only move far enough for a couple of hours drive? So we can be that close.
Here’s to you Brawley! May you bring many more generations of whole-hearted people and welcome all strangers.
self that I would move far away and never look back. Well, except during holidays and visitations to my family. I had this picture in my mind that I would live in a big city like San Diego, Los Angeles, and New York. My senior year came and I knew that whichever farthest college accepted me, I would go. My first acceptance letter came from San Francisco State University. I was beyond excited! But by the time graduation came, two more college acceptances, and one rejection, I wasn’t ready to leave. And even though I swore to my best friend Andrea that I would never go to I.V.C. (Imperial Valley College – local community college), I ended up there my first two years of college. I remember not feeling disappointed and not regretting leaving Brawley right after high school. While attending I.V.C., I still had dreams of living somewhere far away and working in the big city. But………when it came to applying to colleges to transfer, I kind of wanted to stay somewhere close. And now that I look back at it, what was I trying to get away from?Brawley is like the sweater that keeps you warm in the cold, the fresh fountain drink that cools you in the heat (well in this case, very bad heat), and the place where everybody knows everybody. It’s a place where no matter who you are, you will get a smile from strangers. You could even get a smile from the homeless people who hang outside the donut shop. After they ask you for some change of course. It’s where Johnny’s was first created, where we spend a dollar a day for sweat tea with sugar and lemon from the donut shop, and where every November we host our annual Cattle Call Rodeo and everyone dresses up as a cowboy. And even though sand rats invade all of our gas stations during their Glamis trips, it’s ok because Brawley is very welcoming to its outsiders.
So, when it was time to transfer from IVC, I quickly realized that I needed to transfer somewhere that was close enough. I wanted to go to school somewhere close enough to drive home in an emergency or just when I felt like seeing my family. I, like many Imperial County kids, opted for SDSU. However, SDSU did not opt for me. Twice!! Once in high school and again transferring out of IVC. Yes, it was disappointing but if it weren’t for their rejection I wouldn’t have had the wonderful opportunities CSUSM has brought me.
So now that I’ve been out of Brawley for six years, I find myself wondering if I’ll ever move back. To be honest, I think one day I will, but not any time soon. I still have those dreams of living in the “big city.” Except that the “big city” is now in another country. As I pursue my ambition for higher education and a fantastic writing career, I plan on traveling when I turn 30 and living in a different country each year. And while I’m in a different country each year experiencing new cultures and learning new languages, I will be thinking about the small town of Brawley, Ca. Nowhere else will it take two minutes to get to the bank. In my current city, if I want to go to the bank, it will take me about 10 minutes even though the bank is as far from my apartment as it is in Brawley from my mom’s house where I grew up.
But what makes Brawley so special is its homely feeling one gets when living or visiting there. I always
say that it’s a great place to raise kids. Not that I’ll ever have any. Sorry mom! But I do plan on possibly retiring there. Even though it’s a small little town with not much going on, the people there are very hard to forget. I mean look at us!! We were so bored with Brawley that we even made sand fun with Glamis! We even created Dippy Duck because too many kids were bored and started swimming in the canals. The small things don’t make Brawley. It’s the people who make Brawley. What better to have than to be surrounded by people who all want the same thing? A home. Brawley is home. And even as it grows, just like when it got its own Wal-Mart, we remain humble and welcoming.I remember the first time I left Brawley. I was 20 and moved into the dorms at CSUSM on August 2003. I purposely decided not to go to Brawley until the following Thanksgiving so that I can well-adjust myself living in a new city and learn how to be on my own without my family and friends. Needless to say, I didn’t last :( I surprised everyone on a Friday night when my family was celebrating my sisters Lupe and Vanessa’s birthday, which is right before Halloween. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming and just showed up. I always remember that night so vividly. As I drove in from the 86 by the hospital, my heart began to race and I started to think “Man! It’s been two months and it already looks different!” I pulled into my mom’s house where the celebration was taking place and I heard someone say “Is that Chena!?” (Chena is my family knick name). I come out of the car and I hear “IT IS CHENA!!” It was the most beautiful welcome I had ever received! It almost made me cry. My mom, my sisters, my brother in-laws, my nieces, my nephews, (I don’t think Edgar was there at the time), and even my dog all welcomed me with big hugs! When I walked into the house and saw Lupe’s reaction, my heart just melted with the all the love I felt. Even Andrea (my best friend of 13 years and who everyone in my family calls “the adopted one”) was there celebrating the birthdays with my family. That’s how welcoming everyone is. Later on that night I remember Lupe telling me “I was just thinking earlier today how much I wish you were here with us. You really made my birthday sister!” I know! I totally felt a little popular in that moment haha! And like the luckiest person in the world to have people like them around me.
So even though I wanted to move away from a small town like Brawley, it still has my heart. And I’m sure a lot of my peers would agree. Why do you think so many of us only move far enough for a couple of hours drive? So we can be that close.
Here’s to you Brawley! May you bring many more generations of whole-hearted people and welcome all strangers.
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