A blog about Personal Journals.
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After a few intense, grueling, exhausting days,Mr. Twinkie and I took a walk for some serenity and silence. He'd spotted the fountains the day before and knew that was the perfect place to sit and reflect and get away from the chaos for a while. We weren't sitting for too long. Mr. Twinkie was making a few phone calls, I was resting my eyes. I happened to look up towards the fountain and I saw it! A beautiful, magnificent, bright colored rainbow. I turn to him and tell him, "You know they say that when God let's it rain, he's always got a rainbow up his sleeve." He looks up, sees the rainbow, and smiles. A calmness came over us. At that moment we both knew everything was going to be O.K. - - -
*this particular entry was originally posted at Tales of Chaos and Fancy. You can click here to see it along with other pet stories. The joys of owning a pet when your floor is BROWN are self evident. It’s like a minefield, really! And it keeps us on our toes. When you finally do “hit the big one” you can’t get TOO mad, because.. well…. just look at this face?
I honestly never thought I’d ever be a pet owner again. And I don’t know what came over me when I said, “YES” but I’m glad I did. She’s like my kids USED to be when they were younger. Always happy to see me.
Oh my kids are still happy to see me, but it’s more of a “YAY mommy’s here! That means it’s dinner time and while she’s making dinner she can help me with my homework and while she’s helping me with my homework my sister can interrupt a gazillion times to tell her all about her day and while that’s going on my daddy can interrupt twenty gazillion times to ask such mundane questions such as have you seen my keys or do you know where the remote is or when is dinner gonna be readyand we can wear her out until it’s time for baths and bedtimes stories! YAY! She’s home!!!” type of happy to see me.
With Zoey (yes her name is Zoey, but I call her Zo-Zo!) it’s more of a “yap yap yap yap let me kiss (transalation=LICK) your face and show how happy I am that you’re home. I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU and guess what? I don’t even need or want anything from you! I just LOVE YOU for you! Now, can I hump your leg?”
Racism doesn’t exist.
At least it didn’t in my little world as a child. Even today I try to stay in my little bubble but sometimes it’s not so easy.
I grew up in a small agricultural community called McFarland where the population was primarily Hispanic. Since Mexicans were the majority, to us racism was something we joked about because we didn’t really know what it was.
When you grow up with people who are the same, shop at the same places, go to the same churches, know the same people, you thrive in the differences. Differences excite you. Racism is something you read about, not something you experience.
We’d say the gabachos (white kids) were the minority, not us. This was, of course, while not fully understanding just exactly what a “minority” was. To me it meant, “less in quantity.”
Unfortunatley, experience has led me to the actual definition of what minority truly means, the definition, I've learned can mean different things to different cultures, in some cases it can even mean, "lesser than."
It could mean a group of people you dont want to belong to, someone you dont want to be.
When you’re a minority you get treated a tad bit different. Sometimes it’s not by much. It’s hardly noticeable. Other times it’s so blatant that it’s insulting.
Like the time I took my kids to the craft store, Color Me Mine. I was ignored while the white lady with her matching jumpsuit and Dooney and Bourke bag was getting the Royal treatment.
Was it because of the way I looked?
It happened at the Marketplace where most of the women walking around are Barbie replicas. Did I not look like I belonged with my 5ft, 135 lbs, brown hair, brown eyes, in my $5.99 Susie’s Deal’s outfit? Did I not get treated right because I wasn’t wearing $200 jeans? Or because my kids weren't wearing Gap?
Or was it because I am Mexican?
I always try to shrug it off as, “Oh, she just had a bad day.” Or “They just have bad customer service skills. I'm sure they are like that with everyone." When somebody tries to tell me it’s because I’m Mexican, I try to explain to them they are wrong. Times have changed and there’s no such thing as racism.
When my son was in the 8th grade he and a few friends stayed the night at another friend’s house after a school dance. The next morning he tells me that around midnight they decided to walk to the store to get some fried burritos from a mini mart.
As they were walking they got stopped by the police. They were told to sit on the sidewalk and were asked one by one for their names. They were breaking curfew, but other than that, they weren’t doing anything illegal.
My son was really insulted at the way he was treated but I tried to explain to him that it was justified. Even though they weren’t doing anything wrong they were BREAKING CURFEW!
He says that the cop asked each of them their first names and age. When the cop got to my son he asked him to stand up. He took a picture of him to keep in his files and he asked him for his full name and address. He also asked him what they were doing out and a few other questions. My son complied.
They were driven back to his friend’s house, where they talked to the parents. Everything checked out so the kids were released to them.
My son was confused as to why out of all six kids that were with him, he was the only treated like a hoodlum and questioned like a common criminal. He just couldn’t understand why he was treated so rudely while his friends were treated so courteously.
He said he thought it was because he was the only Mexican in the group.
“There is no such thing as racism anymore. That’s a thing of the past,” I found myself explaing to my thirteen year old son. “Maybe it was just that you looked like you were up to something, while they didn’t.”
Sometimes it’s much easier to try to convince him and others than it is to convince myself.
It's all fun and games until somebody blows up. Then it's negligence on the police department/FBI/airport security. etc etc. (insert your own authorities name/brand here). Troopers arrested a woman wearing what appeared to be a bomb. She said it was art and the cops overreacted. Oh, and that they are paranoid. Tell that to the people of the Oklahoma city bombing, or the recent Boston scare, or the kids killed at colleges accross campuses because authorities didn't "see the signs" and act accordingly. Call me crazy or paranoid but if I see someone walking around with a white circuit board on their chest over a black hooded sweatshirt and nine flashing lights while hanging on to Play-Doh, I'm gonna go ahead and assume it's a bomb, if that's ok with you. I get a text marked *URGENT! I panic, quickly open it, fearing for the worst. The ONLY person that ever texts me is my teen daughter so immediatley I thought of the worst scenerious. She was in a fight.
She’s hurt.
She’s pregnant.
Ok ok, as if she’d actually TEXT me if she was pregnant.
Anyways, I read it (turns out it wasn't from my daughter, it was from a friend... )and it says:
The POLICE found a body with saggy titties, dirty panties, and a foodstamp card. Girl, I was worried….. ARE YOU OK??????
Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. That made my day. I know, I know. I amuse easily. SO WHAT?
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Yesterday was my anniversary and while it should have been THE BEST DAY IN THE WORLD, it really wasn’t.
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*(the evening was, but the day... ummm... not so much!)
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Everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong.
Of course, weird things ALWAYS happen to me so you could probably say that yesterday was a typical day in the life of Twinkie.
I won’t bore you with the details. I’ll just say my day consisted of a broken heel, a ripped slip/skirt (which is almost as bad as a STINKY PURSE) , a bad hair day (which is better than a hairy arm day), and NO PARKING within a three block radius for the restaurant when I volunteered to pick up lunch for a coworker. Oh and a sinus headache.
What I will tell you is the part that I think Cubic Dweller will appreciate.
I’m at work and I have to go pee for the gazillionth time because I’ve drank a lot of water throughout the day. My bladder felt like a woman who is a size 12 trying to fit into a 9. It was about to burst at the seams.
When I finally have a free moment, I quickly get up and rush to the restroom, almost knocking over a coworker on the way.
Of course I’m not paying much attention to where I’m walking, I’m just walking REALLY REALLY fast. When it happens.
I hit my left arm/elbow on the restroom doorway.
OUCH.
It hurts so bad but I can’t stop! I have to sit on that toilet or I’m gonna pee my already ripped skirt. When I finally sit I allow myself to feel the pain and exclaim, “Owwwwwie” then a few more, “OW OW OW…… moan, groan, moan groan.”
Then I hear it. Someone is at the door, but they are not coming in.
I sit there and think to myself, “Oh MY God! I hope they are not thinking what I THINK they are thinking!”
What do you think I think they were thinking? Well, put yourself on the other side of that door and think about it for a second!
Yeah! That's what I'd be thinking too.
Yes, I know you've been looking forward to a Tuckermans book review for this month, and I've been lagging because... well... because... ummm.....because... heeeeee.... ummm.... none of your business. So anyways... onwards... About The Book (taken from ReadingGroupGuides.com) THE RED TENT tells the little-known Biblical story of Dinah, daughter of the patriarch Jacob and his wife, Leah. In Chapter 34 of the Book of Genesis, Dinah’s tale is a short, horrific detour in the familiar narrative of Jacob and Joseph. ===== I'll start where I fell in love! (with the book of course)
---------- This is what Amy had to say: ........it really takes you into their world and what it had to have been like for them as women...the only time they really get to be themselves completely is in the red tent... NO PICTURE AVAILABLE AT THIS TIME ------- Lisslo agrees and adds: First, I agree with Norma about the beauty of the description of Isaac and Rebecca's relationship. I really liked that.
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When asked who our favorite character/sister in the book was, Daydreamer said: I would have to choose Leah as my all time favorite because she is so strong and capable. I would love to know how to do half the things she does.
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Kimberly didn't think she was going to like the book in the beginning. But once she started reading it she says: I didn't think I was going to like the book when I first started to read it. ... Yet, I can't put it down while I'm home. I think the incredible bond between them is amazing. I've never seen these stories from this point of view before. But she did have a question in the middle of reading: Okay, I read this part over and over again. Why does the Grandmother banish the niece becuase her mother did something wrong with her first period? I can't even seem to figure out what the mother did wrong. Does anyone else know. This lady is beginning to make me mad. I've only read up to where she banishes the daughter of Esau. Any help? NO PICTURE AVAILABLE AT THIS TIME Lisslo was kind enough to respond: I just read something online that is very interesting and might explain things a bit more. To which I added: I have a confession to make. I got drunk all weekened (literally) swimming/laying out and didn't read ONE WORD... then I left my book at my friends house. I have to pick it up so I can read again. waaaah. Later, as Happy Feet finally joined in the reading she had this to say:
First off, can I just say that I LOVE Daydreamer for choosing this book.Thanks Daydreamer. I don't know if I would have ever picked this up on my own. I love the book. I know I'm a bit slow at reading but don't let that fool you. I completely LOVE the book. NO PICTURE AVAILABLE AT THIS TIME OK There you have it. Go pick up The Red Tent. It's a good book!
Nine years ago today I was in front of friends and family with my son Josh and my daughter Kristel beside me, staring at my beloved’s warm brown eyes thinking how lucky I was to have found the perfect man, the perfect friend, the perfect father.
Nine years ago today I was boldly staring at my future with excitement and wondering just exactly where it was going to lead us.
Nine years ago today I was looking at his sexy luscious lips and wondering just when I was going to get my chance to kiss him, not like all the other times before which were full of passion and love and lust and everything a new love should be, but as his wife and mother of our children and of our future children.
The kiss that would finally seal our fate and our lives together as husband and wife.
Nine years ago today I was thanking the heavens above for finding me the perfect lover and best friend to share the rest of my life with. My husband Mr. Twinkie was staring back at me with his loving gorgeous eyes and his friendly, goofy smile which make me fall in love with him EVERY TIME! But his thoughts were a little different!
Yes, nine years ago today I was thinking all the romantic things most women do on their special day while their loved one is holding your hands in his.
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I was overwhelmed with thoughts and emotion and secrectly hoping people didn’t notice my WHITE HAIR and wondering if my beloved was thinking the same things as me.
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Come to find out, later while we were sharing our thoughts of the wedding and the turnout, and the food and the celebration in general he admits to me that all he kept thinking was , “OH DEAR LORD PLEASE LET THIS BE OVER SOON! THE MINISTER’S BREATH STINKS!!!! I THINK I'M GONNA PUKE. ”
Happy anniversary, Mr. Twinkie! I love you for making me laugh, for making me cry, for being a great father, and for loving me in spite of my clumsiness, goofiness, and airheadedness.
I’m looking forward to tonight, our celebration of love and devotion and all the things to come.
Do you ever feel like that? Things happen in your everyday life and you can't wait to write about it? Sometimes you even start writing the blog in your mind? Or if you're like me, you keep a notebook in your purse just in case? *Especially when it has to do with conversations because my memory is soooo bad. It also changes those around you. My friends are always asking me when they do something embarrasing, "OK NORMA, this better not end up on your blog." Or the opposite... I had something hilarious happen this weekend with my friend Teen Barbie and as we're laughing soooooo hard that snot is coming out of our noses and tears are running down our eyes, we're crossing our legs so we don't pee ourselves, and we can barely breathe in between squeals of laughter.... she gulps and very almost inaudibly says, "OhMYGod, Norma, you HAVE to blog this!" Well here's a girl that is about to school you! Check out her myspace by clicking here. My favorite quote off her second podcast is: "When we kill you it's not like we are taking your life. It's more like we are giving you death." No NO NO... don't be scared! Twinkie is not turning to the dark side. I just find her humor different. And well, ummm... funny? A little bit about her off her WEBSITE:
Bienvenidos and welcome to my website! I am Ask A Chola. You can call me "Chola". I am a chola/anarchist/cultural critic who resides in LA. I make videos that some people think are funny. Sometimes I am in magazines and on TV. I spend a lot of time on Myspace. I am interested in historical revisionism. I believe that the Chola has systematically been written out of Western history and I'm determined to write her back in (006, 007, 023). I believe in affirmative action for pirates (017). Subcomandante Marcos is my-novio (009). I put out political comunicados with certain demands that must be met, including this one to the Frito-Lay Corporation (014). Educational videos are something I will always return to (010, 011, 012, 013). During our recent trip to San Francisco we had the most *ummm... interesting conversation with our boys. We were walking towards the Piers and we walked by the boat we took the dinner cruise on for our honeymoon. So Mr. Twinkie said, "hey look guys, that is where me and mommy went after we were married." Then of course the boys ask WHY didn't we take them too? I mean, come on, they can appreciate a good dinner cruise just as well as the next 7 and 8 year old, right? Of course this confused him so Mr. Twinkie told him he wasn't in mommie's belly, BUT he was in daddy. So OF COURSE Big Mickey asks HOW??? WAS?? HE?? IN ??? DADDY? And HOW did he get from daddy into mommy's belly???? Have you had to deal with similar conversations with your kids yet? Share them with me here.
I can remember when me and my sister and mom would sit around the kitchen table and have our late night talks. Then I'd pretend I was asleep and then she'd hold me for a while. Her and my sister would continue talking then she'd carry me to bed. I can remember being at the beach in Mexico and getting lost. After getting tired of looking for my family I sat down and played with another little girl. She was building a sad castle and I can remember being amazed at her talent. Everything I tried to buid would fall apart or it would look like a blob of sand. I can remember being excited about my dad coming home from work because it meant getting a "peso" from him and running down to the bakery for a piece of pan dulce (sweet bread) I can remember being scared of having to go to the bathroom at night because we didn't have indoor plumbing, therefore we'd have to go outside to an outhouse. I was always amazed at how my brother and sister never seemed to be scared about anything. I can remember the drive into the United States. The border and it's traffic and men in uniforms checking each car for illegal immigrants and contraband freaked me out. I can remember the relief I felt once we got into the United States. It was like being in a whole new universe! I can remember getting lost on my way from my first day of school. Thank GOD McFarland is so small because I remember a lady asking me if I was lost and I said, "YES" then she asked me for my address. I didn't know it. But I told her I was staying with "mi Tia Victoria" *(my aunt Victoria) and she knew exactly who I meant, and took me there! I can remember in the second grade not knowing any English and therefore not being able to tell the teacher I had to go pee. So I peed my pants. Then I remember getting sent to the principals office until my pants dried. There was no way for me to go home since everybody was at work. I can remember wanting to go camping to Camp K.E.E.P. and my mom not allowing me to. She said that's where little kids got chopped up into little pieces and she wasn't having any of it. I can remember in High School, when I was a freshman this guy had a crush on me and he walked me to my locker and tried to kiss me and I turned my face as in EWWWWW And he frenched my cheek. It was sloppy wet GROSS! (and NO that guy wasn't Matt-a-topia! He was too busy trying to get with my friend Goocher at the time) hha. just kidding Matt. What are YOUR favorite childhood memories?
This week has been a pretty shitty week for me. Not shitty, I guess. I’ve just been really out of sorts all week. Absent minded, clumsy, tired, achy, allergy head, etc. Then this morning I ate a rotten pumpkin seed and I can still taste it. YUCK.
For the past two years my two childhood friends and I have been a part of the Apple Run in Springville. I can't believe it's that time again. Yikes. Every year I say I'm gonna train for it so I'm not the second to the last person in. And every year I get lazy and stop working out. Dammit. And now it's here again! Who's gonna join us this year? They are all funny jokes that came from this guy! He starts off like this: Sometimes, the most joyful moment of my day is sitting down on the toilet. How about yours? Then it ends like this: My favorite word today is testickle. N., let your
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