My "Peeps"

Posted by Gordita In The City Monday, April 16, 2012 0 comments

The Complicated Social World of Mo

I mention a lot of people and my stories are often easy to get confused (cause they can be that weird). So, if I ever reference them in a blog post, you can consult this to get a better idea of who they are and what they mean to my life.

Close friends (in order of Seniority ...not rank)


Val: My best friend of 17+ years. We used to live next door to each other, she loves re-telling embarrassing stories from my childhood, and I'm an unofficial member of her family (I'd have to marry her single brother to make it really legit). She is my rock and very much a sister to me.She has a beautiful daughter that we call Mickey who is my adoptive niece.

Dora the Explorer: Val's Older sister....When we were growing up I got on her nerves, she got on mine ... now I love her to death and can't see a life without her. 

Steph: Val's little sis... she's pretty much adopted as my kid sister... I've been around the brat since she was 2 , now she's almost legal to party. 

Mc-Sexy: Our parent’s dated and she could have been my was pretty weird.  We agree 7 times out of 10 that boys can be lame. She is definitely my most "coconut" friend, she is probably one of the few friends I have that will never complain about a experience I take her to.

Blondie aka Gangsta' Bitch: Back in the day she was my party-girl “Road dog” that was almost as crazy as me. On more than one occasion we have left a party laughing our asses off after a brawl (she's just gangsta like that) or stumbled around in our heels after  a good time. I'm also really good friends with her sister Mal and hang with her cousins The 18th Street Crew.

Sherpa: Watch out... she's good with her hands (Massage Therapist) and gives Mae-West a run for her money on Chi-Chis... met her through Rubik's Cube and its been love ever since (depends on the day and if she has eaten or not). In the best ways possible, we always bump heads and we trade clothes.  Always the one to throw the party...and be over-prepared... which usually saves our asses.

Switzerland: At one time.. I actually hated her since my ex Rubik's Cube liked her more than me (they knew each other in high school). Turned out she was pseudo-soul-matey and pretty rad. She reminds me of the pretty Ballerina Ostrich from Fantasia because of her ridiculously long-eyelashes and hips. I call her Switzerland since she stays neutral in EVERY dispute I ever have with Sherpa or anyone else.

Purple-Love:  She's my usually single road dog who see's my mom more than I do. We were in theater together and then went on a rampage going to every Rockabilly event under the sun which resulted in some interesting and funny anecdotes


Kat - My Czech hairstylist, buddy, Girl's Night extraordinaire.  She was my first friend in Boston and actually approached me because she was trying to hook me up with her friend while telling me I needed to fix my style =).  We have been into way too much trouble for our own the best way possible. 

G - I met her in my "Living Art in Real Spaces Class" at Emerson back in 2011. When we first hung out alone...I seriously thought she was hitting on me..turns out I was wrong. We've been practically inseparable ever since and we ALWAYS love nothing more than to hang out with our good friend Wanda.

Lalo - My neighbor, only Mexican friend in Boston, favorite waiter, enabler, fellow art-fart, and surrogate boyfriend on those cold winter nights.  The hallmark of our friendship involves "accountability circle" (it's not what you think!). 

The Men in My Life:

Yes.... a few of these guys are technically my exes, we went out briefly, or developed a special attachment
Yes...Unless noted...I have amicable and non-awkward platonic relationships with them
No... they are not gay
No...they are not surrogate boyfriends, "special" buddies, or my "backups"

Guillermo: My ex-best guy friend who I used to date on and off in High-School. He was a real sweetheart back when we shared an incredible bond over Harry Potter and alternative religions. Unfortunately after 10 years of friendship.. he decided to end our friendship via Facebook message... :(

Qui-qui: Another current close guy friend and my longest relationship (2 years).  I dated him after high school while we were involved with Demolay and Job's Daughters. He has gone on to be one of my best friends who is also the biggest computer nerd I know. I had the pleasure of attending his wedding  and he is now a proud daddy of a bouncy baby girl who probably knows more math than I do.

Rubik's Cube:  One of my closest guy friends. Our friendship journey is aptly described as, "It Was Complicated"...emphasis being on was. We dated for a while at my community college. He is directly responsible for my friendships with Switzerland and Sherpa. It's kind of a running joke that I make good friends with girls he either used to date or like.

Tough: He is a greaser dude I met at Blondie's 21st birthday party during the Original Mo's March Madness.  He's part of the 18th Street crew (not the gang) next to my Dad's house that I regularly hang out with when I am in L.A. 

Grease Monkey: A greaser guy I met at Saddle Ranch and dated for 4 months after meeting him during the Original Mo's March Madness. Out of the original trio - he was the one I liked the most. His big thing was cars and  he subsequently became one of my really dear friends who always offers big hugs when I need it.

Guido: A guy I used to hang out with during the original Mo's March Madness. He is a member of the PUA lifestyle and introduced me to some some fun times and celebrities in Hollywood. The best part is that I met him online only to find out that he used to live 2 doors down from my childhood home. I lost touch of him YEARS ago...last time I checked he was in Kentucky or something like that.

Mr. Wonderful: One of my more recent and most hilarious guy friends who serves as my comic relief and living version of "Sex and the City".  I fell in like with him briefly when he DJ'd McSexy's "pretend wedding." The violent crush lasted as briefly as my comedic timing.  Needless to say, he is one of the only guys I know who can possibly out talk me.


Mom - Your atypical Cuban / Puerto Rican from the South Bronx with the attitude to match. She reminds most of my friends of Peggy Bundy and wows them with her NYC accent.

Dad- Born and raised in East L.A... his love affair is with Cars...specifically Corvettes. He is famously personified by the Mariachi song "El Rey".

Titi: My mom's Puerto-Rican half-sister (same mother) and my aunt that I  currently live with in Boston. She is most often my rock and mentor. Everyone says I look just like her and have the same nerdy interests.

Frizz - My half-sister through my mom.  We are 10 years apart and I am eternally sorry for ruining her room when I was a kid. I spent the most time living with her. She is the mother of my littlest nephew, Yoshi.

‘Leesh- My half-sister through my dad. We are 15 years apart and I am constantly wondering if I will ever have as much fun in my twenties as she had. She is the mother of my two nephews Jayden and Justin.

Cass - She is ‘Leesh’s little sister and technically my step-sis (my was dad married her mom waaay before she was born ). She’s cool as shit and I call her my sis anyways. All I can say about her is that she has the prettiest smile I've seen in awhile.

Cousin G - My closest cousin from my dad's side that totally loves Tupac. We spent a lot time hanging out together and playing kick the can while growing up.  Plus our share of scary stories.

Boss - My entrepreneurial and occasionally thuggish cousin that owns the family body-shop and one day hopes to be rich. I’m waiting for the day he busts my dad over the head for bugging him every weekend at the garage, lol. 

Grandma Vera -  My 94 year old Mexican grandma who makes me laugh my ass off every time I visit her.

The Art of Being Alone: The Tao of the Perpetual "Single Card"

Posted by Gordita In The City Tuesday, March 13, 2012 1 comments

According to Astrology, I am an overbearing, needy, manipulative, over-emotional, security blanket-needing wet rag who is exhibits co-dependent behaviors with bad relationships, has a mommy complex, while preferring to be home nine times out of ten.  What's my sign?

Yep you guessed it, I'm a Cancerian. A special-breed of summer born side-shuffling crab who acts tough on the outside but is really all mushy and sappy on the inside. As a woman, I'm stereo-typically supposed to buy into this spiel, planning and plotting my life by arbitrary star placements because that is easier than admitting that I have choices. What I find amazing, is that people find my ability to go out in the world alone astonishing. It's almost like I discovered some kind of super-mutant power in my ability to go to concerts, bars, parties, Valentine's Day events, and every other kind of social event on my own. The first question that I almost ALWAYS get asked by people when they meet me at an event is, "Who did you come with?" After, I inform them that I came alone, I often get stares of pity or looks of absolute wonder. After the initial shock, I have to endure the usual line of questioning that curious people have followed by their own admissions of, " I could never do that, you are so brave".

Listen, I am not brave, magical, or relatively even enlightened - I simply do what I must. Like everyone else, I didn't start out this confident in my abilities. When I got dumped by my ex years ago, I was a typical insecure twenty year-old "hot-mess".  I hated my body, I hated who I was, I found myself repulsive, and had absolutely no confidence in my social abilities. As far as I was concerned, I was an outcast social retard that had a problem with excess of EVERYTHING: talking, imagination, insecurity, etc, etc, etc.   My story is not some magical Ugly-Duckling transformation where I showed my ex and people that hated on me  what they were missing out on and discovered how fabulous I really was. 

A couple of weeks, turned into a couple of months where I was absolutely petrified of doing ANYTHING by myself. Every time there was a party, I'd try and drag any friend available - only to cling to them and my fear of rejection. I would get depressed when people weren't around to hold my hand.  After awhile, I decided that I was tired of feeling sorry for myself and bored of waiting for other people to save me from my own self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy. My natural gregariousness came back and I started to feel bold. My first official Single-Girl-by-myself event was the Mooneye's Car Show post-party at Vertigo's in Downtown LA.  I'll save you the whole story.  I went and FORCED myself to talk to strangers. At subsequent events - I started getting bolder and actually began to allow myself to have the fun. Hands down, 2006-2007 were the most socially awkward years of my single social existence.

 The point of this anecdote is that it begins with a choice.  You are going to stumble, fall, and make a complete jack-ass of yourself: the secret is to realize that you aren't that important.  Yep, I said it. You aren't that important. You literally have to not care.  I'm not saying that you should neglect things that matter like grooming and manners - but the moment you abandon the whole idea that the whole world is judging you - the easier it gets. Wait... I lied. Yes, EVERYBODY is judging you - the freedom comes from the realization that you don't really matter enough to be lingered on for more than a few minutes. As a singleton - I am a maverick. I have the unique ability to go where I please and when I choose - the only limit is really myself. 

The question is are you going to live by your label?  Being single is one aspect of my life, a large chunk, but still a part of a really complex whole. The reality is that single people make the world uncomfortable. I can deduce this from the weird reactions I get from people when I tell them I have been single for as long as I have.  You know, it's not like I plotted and planned for this to happen. Sure, my choices have definitely influenced the situation - but ultimately - the card was dealt to me and I have to deal with it. From a bio-evolutionary standpoint, you could say that it is an unnatural condition. Thus, the millions of American singles out there and I are living in genetic allegorical sin. 

Look, the key to being a successful perpetual single is to say: F-It.  That's it. The Tao of the perpetual single is the ability to tell the "establishment" F-it through your actions. You become magical that way. People are naturally attracted to rarity and the honest ability to say "screw it, I choose life" is very rare. Not every person is equipped to survive as a perennial single; more-often, people fail at this office miserably.  I assure you that those people fail due to learned helplessness, not lack of ability.  I call this an art because ANYBODY can learn it with the right push and motivation.

Put it this way,  you aren't going to find love sitting on your couch or clinging to the same coupled friends every Friday night.

One day I'll right Part two to this with actual usable advice and tips that have helped me ... but today isn't it.

Reconciling with "The Fishbowl" at a Quarter Century

Posted by Gordita In The City Monday, March 12, 2012 0 comments

This summer of 2010 marks my quarter-century on this good planet earth. Given that I am physically healthy and have most things in life to recommend me - I can proudly say... not a bad job Mo.  I think there was once a time when people thought I would probably be on my second kid, have an acquired drug habit, and no direction at twenty-five years old given some of the things I've experienced over the years. So the question becomes, what progress have I made? What have I learned?  Am I more adult now than I used to be? 

Lets rewind to Five Years ago:

July 6th, 2005 - Location: East Los Angeles College, Little Theater

I was taking part in ELAC Theater's Summer Shakespeare workshop.  In my opinion, I was having the most adventurous fun of my young adult life - I was staying up all hours of the night because I could, I was doing theater, I had a new boyfriend to be stupid in like/love with, School was working out, my mom was back home ... but under all that I was terrified. I was convinced that fun couldn't last that long.  I was waiting for some other shoe to drop and for the happiness to extinguish. That night in the theater workshop - we were rehearsing for our showcase. For the first time in my life, I got cast as a "Juliet"  and I was loving it.  I was 19 years old and it was the day before my 20th birthday.

I spent the whole day thinking of all the selfish/kiddish things that I could do on my last night as a technical "teenager."  In my mind, I was thinking that those hours before I would turn twenty would end a chapter of my life.  As far as I was concerned, the idea of becoming twenty meant that I was making my official exit from the Neverland of adolescence to the world of adult seriousness (the strange deadlines I set for myself). I don't remember if I ever accomplished achieved the level of teenage mischief I desired that night - but I do remember spending the time after rehearsal scared. As my worldview was growing to include freedom, I felt adulthood closing in on me like a garrote.

Back to the present, it has been 5 years since then and I am so different.  At 20, I was planning on attending Cal State Long Beach for English and then transferring to  Law school in order to be an attorney by 26/27.  Now, I find myself in Boston working my way towards graduating in the same degree at a small East Coast liberal-arts college full of hipsters. I'm surrounded by thousands of differing carbon-copies of my confused 19/20 year old self.  I admit at times, I move amongst them with a bit of a lofty air of "been there, done that" because I'm older and by lot in life...less sheltered than many of them. At times, I'm appalled at my arrogance.  Putting on airs as if I have lived a thousand years.  I suppose I do it because I need to.  I feel so different and isolated at that school, that differentiating myself through my life experience (since I never took pride at my academic achievement) seems to be the only way that I can find a modicum of security.  At the end of the day, the fishbowl that we are groomed in High School and college to outgrow is still a fishbowl. 

As a fish that has flopped between different schools, coasts, family dynamics, I am learning that the reality is that we are all floaters. This is not even a new or innovative thought, as much as I would like to believe it is. Yes, the proverbial ocean of a larger world does exist.  It is a large and cavernous blue void that cares nothing for our small individual existence. To survive we flock together to create "schools,"  pie slices of categorization and culture to  make ourselves feel better.  I might be the unique flashy fish in my particular fish bowl - but there are a potential million other flashy fish just like me that exist in other fish bowls. That is a hard pill to swallow in a culture that prides itself on individualism and innovation.  It's a depressing enough thought for most adults that they would probably rather chew a cyanide pill before admitting that they are a speck in the big scope of humanity.

I think this is what holy men and religious scholars talk about when it comes to true enlightenment or communion with "god".  Maybe it really is about arriving to the point where you accept that attachment to the created and material world of the million human fishbowls is a complete myth. Being aware of that big blue ocean and humbling yourself is maybe the first step. There is a wonderful book that was given to me by my grandmother called "Hope For the Flowers".   You could argue that very few people actually "grow-up" - that thought has all sort's of implications that I'd rather tackle on a different post.

So the point? Well, I keep hitting the glass of the fishbowl, stretching to jump out of my "school"  - Maybe I need to start looking through the glass towards the ocean and learn to make waves to guide me out.

Time's A Wastin: A Dialogue on Un-fertilized Eggs in Your Late Twenties

Posted by Gordita In The City Thursday, October 20, 2011 0 comments

Soccer Mom: (looking at the ring on my left hand) How long have you been engaged for?
Me: I'm single
Soccer Mom: (looking at her kid, then me) That's why you're still single...maybe trim down a bit sweetie, Time's a wastin' -
Me: Well I figure having both a child and husband is kind of redundant.
Soccer Mom: Excuse me?
Me: I'm assuming those wrinkles don't come from your amazing sex life... (walking away)

Let me get this straight lady:

1. My single state can be fixed by adjusting my body size
2. My inherent reproductive value is waning due to age
3. Single is a state to be remedied immediately
4. It's socially acceptable to project your moral judgment on a person based,on an arbitrary choice of jewelry placement

My opinion on the matter is very simple.

1. Men leave and cheat on women as beautiful and thin as Halle Berry ALL the time... Fixing my body size might make me more "conventionally" attractive, but it won't guarantee me my choice in human pair bonding and mate selection.

2. Yep...women have a shelf-life and as I have argued with my gay male friends, the world is relatively unfair because unlike them, I become a genetic dead end after my menopausal expiration date. However...thanks to science, I can now cryogenically freeze my prime 20-something eggs for the right price and implant them into myself or a surrogate.

3. I'd rather wait for my soul mate than a cell mate. Even though I have not managed to find a boyfriend or other symbol of non-singleness. Unlike some girls that I have known who filter through an endless line of muck without a break, I probably have a better chance of finding a person I will last with for the long-term because I choose to not jump on every "speeding train" out of desperation.

4. It's called a ring finger for a wear rings on it! In my case, I purchased a fabulous sapphire / diamond art deco filigree ring from the 20's that wear on my left hand. Yes, that side is loaded with meaning. No, I'm not trying to show off...maybe it just fits better there!

I'm not even old, but the slew of baby imagery, nudges, and backhanded comments from more established members of society can take its toll. Like most women, I would LOVE to have a family...just like I would LOVE to own a Porsche, LOVE to have an affluent footing in the world, and LOVE to tour the great museums of Europe. Some aspirations are more realistic than others. In my case, some choices affect the others to the point where..shit happens.

How do I like my eggs in the morning? Preferably unfertilized since I would like to go to Europe, start my career, follow my dreams, and have a solid chance at finding a cool person to spend time with. I'm willing to make some sacrifices to make sure my life has quality to it.

The encounter brings up all sorts of ethical questions. Like what makes a family? If I don't meet a man by my early thirties...will I adopt or artificially inseminate? SHould I declare myself a rebel against the system, display altruism, and ameliorate overpopulation by subverting my selfish needs to pass on my prime DNA to potential offspring by adopting?

All I can say's a big scary world out there...that's the problem with brings up more questions and widens the net.

Under Construction....Everywhere!

Posted by Gordita In The City Friday, October 14, 2011 0 comments

I'm punching this out quickly as I blog from work. Actually to be specific, during nap time on my last day at my job as a Pre-school teacher as all the children emerge from their happy cocoons of sleep. I'm really sad and disappointed that I had to be laid-off. As a friend of mine pointed out, now doesn't look like a bright time to be a teacher, especially one that is trying to start out. I'm looking at each one of these kids, hushing them to sleep, wishing for my copy of "Go the F@@@@ to Sleep" to make it through the talking and breaks in my peace of mind. Each one of their young, short, and vibrant lives has taught me something. I'll detail that in another post because they are about to turn on the lights and break me out of my IPad reverie (I LOVE this thing!!!). I have tons on my mind between the future, Occupy Boston, thinking of Grad School, my upcoming trip to California the next few weeks, and my love life (hahaha nonexistent I know but that is a whole other musing)

I'm writing this to say that... Since my last blog post TONS of things in my life have changed, hence my neglect of this little personal project which I hope changes, evolves, and hopefully becomes more interesting as I advance towards that magic age that people like to call their thirties (I am officially a twenty-something now...ambiguous, but doesn't mention my true age).

Nonetheless, this blog is officially under re-construction, change, and hopefully innocent retooling.

Facebook and Religion?

Posted by Gordita In The City Monday, March 14, 2011 0 comments

I'm a lapsed Catholic. Somewhere along the line of 25 years I was baptized, taught some prayers, and forced to make the sign of the cross every time I passed a church. My mom had this interesting way of giving everything I did a "Catholic Feel" ... you know - candles, incense, saints, rosaries - maybe its a carryover from her days in a Catholic Boarding School. Technically, I should probably be excommunicated for taking the host without having an actual "1st Communion"... but that's between me and the big person/entity in charge up there.

So that brings me to this curious holiday period called "Lent". That magical time of year where everyone and their mother seems to be "giving up" something for the sake having their prayers answered. They sacrifice vice (that rhymed!) to somehow encounter grace from god. Well...I'm not sure if giving up my Facebook vice last year for Lent brought me any closer to god - but it did bring me closer to the hypocrisy which is social approbation. Ethically, I wonder if it was really necessary to use Lent as an excuse to give up Facebook for 40 days and nights. I'm going to guess that that - not it wasn't very necessary as much as it was "opportune". Really, how many out of my 500+ Facebook friends really would notice my absence on a regular day? The same question I ask many of us really care that you are nobly choosing not to eat cupcakes for Lent? Does god or the collective human consciousness really care or register your sacrifice?

I could argue theology all day...but the bottom line is like all of religion...we do what makes us feel better. Deprivation makes humans feel like they have a purpose for some odd reason. As sentient and sapient homo sapiens, we crave that which is everyone loves cupcakes...shun Cupcakes and Facebook to be the shining paragon of virtue that glitters amongst a beach of mud and muck...

Hopeless Romanticism: Love is a Bitch...and then you want some more!

Posted by Gordita In The City Monday, March 7, 2011 0 comments

"Love does not mean surrendering, "losing yourself". It is a call to ripen.  Don't look for straight lines. Life is never like that." - Kama Sutra
Love is a bitch. It's hardly ever there when we need it, we chase after it like a bunch of junkies, and even when we get it, we spend half of our time not to lose it or keep it from changing. I've said it before, but people hate ambiguity. It's my honest opinion, that most people that claim to be in love really don't know what the hell they are talking about, or even have any conception of the hot mess they are about to get themselves stuck into. 
I'm a recovering hopeless romantic.  Yes...recovering..or at least re-branded. I prefer to say, "Hopelessly Hopeful," or maybe just live without the title on my preferences and stick to pragmatic idealist. I'm going to be harsh... because I had to be harsh on myself because it simply drove me nuts. Hopeless romanticism is a pandemic that is ruining marriages and relationships left and right!
Isn't it ironic.. .that hopeless romanticism leads to more breakups and broken hearts than anything else.  Think about it. The media feeds us this image of  "Happily Ever After NO MATTER WHAT"... couples defy the odds. If your true love is married to someone else... NO PROBLEM! You can break up the marriage and be together and it was all for a noble cause. 
Romeo and Juliet (killed themselves), Tristan and Isolde (did it before Romeo and Juliet), Madame Bovary (used, abused, suicide by arsenic), Antony and Cleopatra (suicide), The Little Mermaid, Anything Nicolas Sparks(They actually find their great love... and then die!)... my mind is going blank. 
What makes me laugh is how many guys that I have dated, liked, or hung out with that are hung up on some chick they used to date or some ideal.  It's usually the one that got away.  Usually, this girl is someone that evaded them due to their own assholey decisions or neglect. Better yet, it's the girl who doesn't want them.  She rejects his calls, won't give him the time of day, etc .. etc.. etc.  Not to just put the finger on guys, girls are equally pathetic in the way they will pine and care after a guy who doesn't really care if they live or die. 
Our generation has turned love and sex into this commodity that is meant to provide comfort, constant stimulation, and satisfaction to the point where I'm like... "It's a F**g Relationship... NOT DISNEYLAND!!"
At best, love in it's truest form is a transitional and temporary state.  It's living and it changes the way it is supposed to. For this reason, I highly recommend that people watch "The Science of Attraction" on the Discovery Channel... it basically debunks hopeless romanticism into a drug addicted-like state and sets the biological record straight that long-term love isn't about magic... its about goal setting.  This means that our ancestors had it right, it's old-fashioned determination and commitment. You commit yourself to making the old ball and chain the best ball and chain that ever existed and rule out all other possibility. How else did anyone get shit done? Modernism has turned love into a candy store of customizable options.  I can now go online, check a few boxes and find some guys that match my checklist and only worrying about the details if I dig the picture.  Before the advent of technology, I actually had to "Debut", parade around socially and run into someone I hoped I had chemistry with... and OMG!! Send a letter!
This all sounds very cynical - but I find it freeing. The reality is that the more you spend obsessing about old or unattainable love, the more you screw up your future possibilities.  You should stop frowning, because someone might actually fall for your smile. I think all great loves have their time. You will never get that time back again, and if the boat sailed... it's chances of returning to the same port are very narrow, it has to find space where it can and sometimes it's not always the right space. 
 But, I suppose that is what hopeless romanticism is all about, standing on that shore waiting for the boat to come in. Waiting on what ever glimmer/shred/instance of hope you have until some magic happens. 
When you are a hopeless romantic... you are simply an addict. Addicted to love.  So strung out, when you don't get your fix... you create new ways get it.  This might include things like the following:
1. Listening to really sad love songs ...especially if you aren't even sad about anything... you just listen to it because you're bored and you really want to feel something.
2. When you start dating someone, you compare them to your other "great loves"and get disappointed when it is not exact.. (you know.. because everyone is the same and it has to be perfect everytime).
3. You spend more time creating perfect scenarios of how you are going to execute romantic plans or elaborate ruses to gain your object's attention... rather than actually getting off your lazy ass and completing it once and for all. (this is what most people would call procrastination... which is a fear response).
4. You fantasize constantly about the future without really dealing with the present or paying attention to the signs that it takes two... not one just dreaming like a dope. 
5. Make any excuse you can to talk about it. ..
actually.. this list is making me sick writing it. I'm going to assume you all are not idiots .. and know what I'm talking about. 
The bottom line... Grow a backbone and do something about your life and your fantasies.  Dream... really I encourage it.. it's the beauty of life.  Just know the difference between healthy and hopeless.  Note that it is hope-LESS... you gain nothing... infact.. just less of whatever it was you had before - including dignity for the really extreme cases. 


Bienvenidos! Hola! Orale! Welcome

Welcome to the rantings and ravings of a twenty-something Latina who just happens to have ADHD , enjoys the luxuries of working class life in urbania, and believes strongly that women (and men) need to stop using body size as an excuse not to live their for being a minority.... well I like it spicy and mixed.

At this blog, I rep the West Coast ::insert gang sign here:: while moonlighting as an East Coaster.
As you stumble around you will find a pretty wide variety of things: advice, anecdotes, recipes, and pretty much whatever spews forth from my multi-faceted life.
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