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strangers

Today, as I traveled to work early in the morning, I managed to snag a seat near the back of the bus, and as I turned my head towards the window I caught the reflection of a pair of dark eyes that observed me. They belonged to a thin guy, probably near my age, and the whole time I sat on that seat they were on me, staring like they wanted to look deep into my soul. Usually I catch fleeting glances at me, at my body, and most of the time I curl my upper lip in disgust and turn away to ignore the lustful looks, but this time it was different. His eyes never peeled off my face, and there wasn’t a hint of lust in them, only curiosity. I could still feel his gaze as I got off at my stop, and once the bus was on its way I managed to catch one last look from him, leaning against a window. That got me thinking about all the people you can meet on public transportation. The beautiful, that always seem out of place amidst the crowds; the bizarre, that everyone always wants to avoid; the old; the young; the ones that can blend in perfectly and the ones that stick out like sore thumbs. A dozen different realities, every single time you board a bus or one of the wagons at the subway. If you think about it, we run into an endless stream of people in a lifetime, people with unique appearances, unique personalities, and unique stories. And I can only wonder, have I ever made an impact in someone’s life, in those five or ten minutes we share the same air? Has anyone fallen in love with my eyes, hated the way I dress, wanted to be me, or even wanted me?

I cannot remember all of them, but there have been a few cases where those strangers I meet on a daily basis have stayed with me, even after I’ve left them far behind. A gorgeous, Adonis-like guy who had a gaze that could melt your heart; a chatty, lively old lady that complimented me out of the blue; a young girl that discretely undid her messy ponytail and tried to imitate the way I had done my hair; and a crazy man that smelled like he hadn’t taken a bath in a few weeks and screamed that the end of the world was coming up and down the bus until he was asked to leave. Have I ever made that sort of impact on anyone before? Is there still someone out there that remembers my eyes, the sway of my hips, my grey dress? One can only wonder, I guess. Wonder if I have ever crossed Mr. Right, passed a great business opportunity, been within an inch of being followed home, or simply inspired someone to change something about themselves. All those people, representing endless opportunities, some good and some awful, some possible and some simply out of the question; all sharing one space for a moment, and trying to pretend they are ignoring everyone else around them, when in fact your mind stops on several of them, wondering what their story is, imagining all sort of different scenarios to strike up a conversation. Seems funny, doesn’t it?

the alpha female

So this week I was told I was an alpha female. I instantly smiled and thanked the person, truly believing I had just received a compliment, one I was used to hearing, especially these past few years. Later that day, I stumbled upon a blog entry at The Thought Catalog that coincidentally versed on alpha females, and what their life is all about. I started getting this sinking feeling in my stomach as I read, a new, crazy thought roaming through my head: ‘was it really a compliment?’ I’ve been told all my life that people, regardless of their sex, can achieve the most amazing things if they set their mind to it, that one should strive to perfection in every aspect of one’s life and that failure is simply out of the question for people with my potential. My parents (especially my mother), my teachers, even my friends, they were all constant reminders that I ‘had what it takes’ (whatever that means), that my competitive spirit would take me far and that, since I had the potential, I couldn’t settle for a normal life. I had to be big, famous, successful and practically legendary; otherwise my life would be a waste. In other words, I couldn’t settle for ‘normal’ or anything remotely similar. My mother never accepted (and to this day, still doesn’t) anything lower than a perfect 10, my teachers always expected my projects and essays to surpass their wildest dreams, and my friends are only surprised when things don’t go as I planned. Plain, average, normal, forgettable and boring were words that would never, could never, describe my life.

This is how I was raised, how I was taught to act. I became this obsessive, possessive, control-freak gal that could never settle for anything less than perfect. I was constantly looking for a better ‘fill in the blank,’ whether it is a project, a school, a degree, etc. And now, a job. I’ve only been working here for less than three months, and I’m already seeking a better one. Sure, I knew even before starting here that this was only a transitory job, something to keep me afloat economically speaking while my dream job arrived. But still, I can’t help thinking that this is just me falling back into my regular pattern of achieving something bigger and better, never satisfied with what I have, always wanting more. I can’t help but wonder, is this what my life is always going to be? After the adrenaline rush I get when I manage to reach my objective, will I get restless once more, eager to move on to the next big thing? With each new phase in my life, I leave everything and everyone behind, and I am never satisfied with my current situation. I keep pushing myself to achieve more and more, even if it means no sleep and stressing myself to the maximum. When will it be enough? Is it ever going to be enough? How does one learn to enjoy the present when you are used to thinking ahead, planning new goals, already thinking of the next step after only minutes of having achieved something?

A couple of years ago I had the opportunity to watch Dogville, a movie by Lars von Trier that stars Nicole Kidman. I felt, and still feel, completely identified with Nicole’s character, Grace, especially when someone in the movie points out that she doesn’t measure herself with the same standard she measures everyone else, that she sets the bar higher for herself out of pure arrogance. I do that too, and I used to think that was a good thing, that the need to set impossibly high standards for myself was simply because of my great potential (again, whatever that means). Now I realize it was all haughtiness, nothing but my ego fooling me into thinking I was better than everyone and thus I had to excel at everything.

I used to pity other people, those who barely manage to hold on to one simple thing in their life, those who have never received recognition, those who get overlooked, and those who fail. Now, I think it is me who should be pitied, for I will never know what it’s like to sit still in the carousel center, sipping champagne. No, I’ll always be the girl that is constantly changing from one horse to another, trying to figure out a way to climb all the way to the top. The girl you admire, but are also very grateful not to be.

bad day

I was sitting in my office, staring sullenly at my computer screen, with 20 unread emails and a dozen “to do’s” marked urgent. Around me, people were chatting amiably, going about their daily tasks with a smile on their face and even a couple of jokes to toss around. As I looked in disbelief, people were actually enjoying their work, even if it meant calling some snobby receptionist to get an appointment or answering dozens of complain mails. I, on the other hand, procrastinated for at least half an hour before finally (begrudgingly) getting to the task at hand. The shiny new Blackberry in my purse provides much yearned-for distractions that relieve, at least partly, the boredom that invades me practically the six hours I sit in my desk. On certain days, my inner Grinch comes out way more often than usual, every little thing bothers me beyond belief, and I simply count the minutes till I can get the hell out of here. That’s when I think to myself ‘am I the one who’s wrong? Is it just me that has really bad office days, seeing as how everyone else seems to be thoroughly enjoying what they do?’ Lately I’ve tried to excuse my behavior by saying that my job isn’t right for me, that it’s completely different from what I plan to do with my life and that, unlike the rest of my coworkers, I don’t have one creative fiber in my body, so I usually feel out-of-place and strange.

But the reality is, they are nothing more than lame excuses for not doing what I’m supposed to do, regardless of whether I like it or not. They are paying me (and a lot more than many interns I know) and I have to suck it up and be a man. Or woman. Until I land a job that’s more career-oriented, that I can actually enjoy, I face the same old boring job day after day. And then, I start wondering, is my attitude solely because what I do has become tedious due to the fact that it has nothing to do with what I’m studying, or am I simply one of those mediocre people that are never happy, no matter what job they get, and thus use it as an excuse to do nothing? If I do get the job I am pursuing (cross your fingers and toes for me, people!) will I step up and give my 100% every single day, will I actually enjoy what I’m doing after the thrill of the unknown wears off? Is it possible to ever really enjoy a job, knowing you will be doing the same crap every single day, sitting at the same office, with the same people, with no other rest than the crappy two-day weekend that goes by in a flash? I used to think that once you found your passion, you would have no problem getting up and working long hours every day. Now, I am not so sure anymore. And even if it is true, what if you never find your passion? Or what if your passion is waking up every day at 12 pm, sitting in front of the television all day long and then partying till the sun comes up?

I guess there’s no way of finding out other than just taking the job and trying to have the best attitude towards it. Because unfortunately, being a couch potato and keeping tabs on TV series doesn’t pay the rent, and as much as I would love to have a job with super flexible schedules that allowed me to wake up at 10 am every day, they are practically nonexistent. Plus, while I graduate and specialize in the area I love and get my pick from amazing jobs that pay well and (hopefully) don’t involve a lot of hard work, I have to take what I can. Meaning low pay, long hours, and suck-y tasks. It’s such a great joy being a student, isn’t it?

TV

I know you probably spent a good chunk of your childhood and adolescence being told by most authority figures that TV=Satan, that 'scientific studies' proved it significantly reduced your intelligence, that it promotes violent and promiscuous behaviour...bla, bla bla. Truth be told, many valuable lessons have been handed to me through TV. For real. So don't tell me all my long hours sitting in front of that magical box have been in vain, OK?!

Last week, I watched the season finale of Gossip Girl, my favorite TV series of all times. And the most deliciously-evil character ever, Chuck Bass, pronounced these words: 'there's a difference between a great love and the right love.' Don't know if any of you lovely readers are GG fans, but the backstory to this phrase is that Blair is about to marry this prince, and Chuck tries to stop her. After a series of events, she ends up caving, and decides to dump Louis (her prince) for Chuck:

Blair: “I should find Louis and tell him it’s over.”
Chuck: “If that’s what you want.”
Blair: “It’s the right thing to do.”
Chuck: “You really love him, don’t you?”
Blair: “Yes, but not like I love you. Louis and I, it’s different. It’s lighter. More simple. He makes me happy.”
Chuck: “And I don’t.”
Blair: “What we have is a great love. It’s complicated. Intense. All-consuming. No matter what we do and how much we fight, it’ll always pull us in. What’s mere happiness in the face of all that? Right?”

At this point, I was confused. I must admit I was one of the hoards of Blair/Chuck shipppers, waiting all season and begging for divine intervention to get these two together at last. But after these words, I wasn't so sure. I mean sure, we all want great love (especially cheesy, into-1950's romance like me), but shouldn't we take a page out of Juliet's book and learn that many times, with great love comes not happiness but tragedy? The next scene seemed to confirm my thoughts exactly: just when Blair is about to tell Louis they are through, Chuck cuts her off and instead congratulates Louis for their engagement, telling him he is truly happy for the two of them. And when Blair demands an explanation, he simply says:

Chuck: “There’s a difference between a great love and the right love. I left the Empire State building last year after 2 minutes when you didn’t show. Louis waited all night. This is your chance at happiness. You think you shouldn’t want it because you’ve never had it, and it scares you. But you deserve your fairytale.”

Chuck: “Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not powerful. You’re the most powerful woman I know.”
Blair: “It’s taking all the power I have to walk away from you.”
Chuck: “I know. But I need to let you go. You need to let go.”
Blair: “I will always love you.”
Chuck: “I will always love you.”

Woah. Talk about a 360° turn. After staring at my screen in confusion, I finally managed to wrap my head around the main idea, and as always, found a way to relate this all to my own life. Because you all know I simply love to find ways to relate completely unrelated stuff to what is going on with me. Leaving aside the whole cheesy-ness of the general idea and the fact that there's a prince (an actual Prince William-like figure) involved which should make it all beyond the unrealistic limits, I think it's true. We all tend to imagine that the great things in our life are worth keeping, doesn't matter if they are complicated, rollercoaster-like and make us suffer. Actually, we think it's normal to suffer intense pain, we think that the more suffering is required, the grander the whole thing is. This idea doesn't just aply to love, it can be extended to any area you like.

So, is this really so? Should we hang on to the complicated, to the painful, to the intense, to the hardships, just because it will make out story so much more grand and tragic? Should we ditch what makes us happy, because it's too simple, too easy? Yeah, I don't think so. We only get one shot at this people, why should we make our life even more complicated than it already is? We were sold this shitty story that amazing love is only the Rome & Juliet kind, that great success comes only from all work and no play, and that life is just all about pain. I say it's not. I say we can all the enjoy the simple, the uncomplicated, whatever makes us truly happy, without destroying you. Do like Chuck, and try to focus on what brings out the light in you and in the people around you, not the dark.

/rant

fearless

Change is good, I suppose. Up until now, I've always sort of resented change, thinking it was destiny's whimsical way of screwing up with my life just when I had finally learned to deal with the latest thing thrown straight at my face. But apparently, change can be good too. Many things are changing in my life right now, and it has all been pretty fab. I have FINALLY landed a job (an actual job, not the enslavement I did in the past with all work and no pay), I'm moving in to my own apartment (yes, ladies and gentlemen, it is MY apartment, since I'm paying for a third of the rent) and cute men just keep popping out of nowhere. So yeah, life's good. Maybe that's why I have had such a long writer's block, I have nothing to rant about. I really need to become a better writer, one that can write the same funny posts even when she's not nearly blacking out with rage or about to slit her wrists from depression. I'll attempt to whip out some extra-hilarious posts this summer, pinky promise!!!

funny...

1 universe, 8 planets, 204 countries, 809 islands, 7 seas, 6 billion people and....

I'M STILL SINGLE.

something old, something new...

Happy New Year everyone!!

It's been some eventful twelve months, wouldn't you agree? 2010 was certainly nothing like I expected, or wished for during the twelve chimes of January 1^st at that, but looking back, it's been one hell of a ride. Last New Year's I was still struggling with my effin stubborn feelings for a certain guy, school had taken a turn for the worst and I felt empty, incomplete, even a little depressed for the first time in my life. To be honest, the only reason I was looking forward to a new year was just so I could leave all those crappy moments behind. Looking back through my old posts, most of them are either me ranting angrily or being all whiny and depressed. I can't say it was the worst year ever, but if I made a ranking, 2009 would definitely be in the top 5. So with that precedent, I had nothing left but hope that 2010 would bring something better. And you know what? It really did.

It started off a bit shaky, but as the monhts went by 2010 really brought it home. I managed to pull my grades up during the last semester of the year, and I proved to myself I had what it took to do the impossible task: straight A's in college. I also managed another seemingly impossible task: convince my stubborn heart that being in love with a gay guy would never bring something good. I can now say I have no romantic feelings for Suerp Boy anymore, and I proved that to myself by going out on more dates than ever before. Sure, I still haven't found a guy good enough to let him stick around, but I'm no longer on the endless quest to prove to the world (and myself) I'm not going to end up as an old spinster with twenty cats just waiting around for me to die so they can eat my corpse. I also managed to land a nice social service, that while proved I am no good anywhere near companies or something remotely similar, at least provided me with a chance to do something I've never done. And it may connect me with a job in the future, but I'll get back to you on that one. I am also pretty sure 2010 was the year I went out dancing and hung out with friends more than ever in my life, which is great considering I also managed to do well in school, so does that mean I have finally found the balance between work and play? Well, I hope my subconscious took note because I have no idea how I did it.

The only crappy aspect in my life was back home, but hey, that's always been crappy so that wasn't a shocker. I can safely say almost all areas of my life kicked ass this passing year, which is way more than I expected. It feels nice, looking back and remembering all these awesome things, to the point where I kind of want to go back in time and relive them. But then I think about the even awesomer things 2011 will bring, and then I'm beside myself with anticipation. Who knows, maybe this year I can materialize all my dreams, land a decent job, find a decent guy and begin mentally preparing myself for graduation, and well, you know, the real world. So this is it for the emotional rant, and while I can assure you ladies the awkward time that make up my life and somehow end up being so entertaining in writing will not end (because really, fate just loves whacking me in the face every now and then), I think I'm greeting the new year with a whole new me, a much more confident, unattached, mature Christina.

And I think things are just about to kickstart. :)

fiat justitia, el pereat mundus

"Let justice be done, though the world perish"

- Ferdinand I

I first heard this phrase, coined by Ferdinand I, Holy Roman Emperor and King of Hungary and Bohemia around 1558, about a month ago, in my Contemporary Mexican Politics class, when we were discussing the pros and cons of two extremes: allowing justice to shine through no matter the consequences, or being more pragmatic when applying justice to allow more flexibility according to the circumstances. Some people believed justice couldn't be applied with freedom, that the principle should remain the same no matter the case. Others thought the circumstances were important, and sometimes you couldn't be just without negative consequences. I think this debate could be translated to the recent Wikileaks debacle. The man behind the whole ordeal, Julian Assange, is considered by some like the savior of truth, like the only man that had the guts to face the West (and more specifically, the United States) and expose their dirty little secrets. Others, and I must include myself in this last category, think of him as an arrogant megalomaniac, with delusional fantasies of fame and grandeur, and that the last thing on his mind was exposing the truth for truth itself. But what most people can agree on is that there will now be a before and after Wikileaks in diplomacy and international relations. The question is, can we say exposing the truth of what goes on in embassies around the world for all societies to see was worth ripping the thin veil of trust and security that surrounded diplomacy? Will this exposure bring forth a whirlwind of consequences unforeseen by the people that leaked the information? What will happen to the sources cited in the documents, diplomats and government workers that now have to face public punishment for giving their opinion?

Wikileaks is considered the largest leak of confidencial information in history. Over 250,000 documents, considered classified information and thus kept away from prying eyes, were exposed, creating a hurricane of opinions, criticism and praise not only on the information that was revealed, but on the promotor of all this chaos, Assange. He claims that the truth should be revealed, at any cost, and that the government of the United States (and all governments, at that) did wrong in hiding the mechanics of their foreign politics. He also states that his intentions were only to reveal the truth, with no hidden agenda but to be a dutiful messenger of society. Right. All the press, power and fame that came with these revelations were just a side dish in the whole process, not the main course. Now, with the accusations of sex crimes against him in Sweden, he's become something of a martyr, condemned by the big bad U.S. for being a good samaritan. Not only has he not undergone a trial, but he's been accused of the same felonies before, so why are there so many people rushing in his defense, crying for his release? If he's innocent, then let the law prove it. But reaching the conclusion that this is all just an act on behalf of the government of the United States to lock him up, as punishment for leaking their information, is too premature. Releasing him would not only feed his already overly-inflated ego, but would take a stab at the heart of our carefully-built judiciary system, an important pilar in modern democracy. Let him have his trail, let him present all the evidence, and then decide whether he is guilty or not.

Leaving my digression on Assange aside for a moment, let's return to the main topic and the most pressing question in all this mess: was this the right thing to do? Do we really need, like Ferdinand I thought, to let justice be done even though it makes the world disappear? Wikileaks claims people need to know the truth, no matter what. But I wonder, what the consequences of this grand charade will be. Sure, I guess we all became better citizens, much more informed than before, but does this leak pose a threat to the cited sources, to the diplomatic processes the United States was completing and will now probably fall apart, to the countries that have been exposed as hypocrites? No one really knows to what extent the consequences of the exposure will affect diplomatic relations, or will fuel conflict between countries (especially in the Middle East), or even affect economic interests.Sure, I'm all for information being available to those who seek it, but where do you draw the line? Between what every citizen should and shouldn't know? Do we allow our governments to decide for us, like they have been doing all this time, let them decide which information can be made public and which is too vital for the country's interests? Or do we support people like Assange, that expose the truth no matter the consequences or who perishes in the process?

A wise man told me a few weeks ago that the line certainly needs to be drawn, ultimately hiding information that is part of a larger process that must be completed, but everything else should be available for the world to see. Only expose what isn't part of a bigger picture, if you will. Point is, who decides what the bigger picture consists of? Who can be trusted with the enormous responsability of deciding that certain information is a part of a longer process and thus cannot be revealed at the moment?

So we're left with choosing between risking having a dictator and submitting to his judgement what we can and cannot know, and allowing people like Assange to infiltrate and publish secrets he/she deems worth of knowing. Tough call.

dear hair

love

thoughts

R: I was wrong. I shouldn't try to control you. I've just, I've never been this happy before and I realize that I was trying to hold on to how you were making me feel so much that I was strangling you in my hands like a little bird. I get now that in order for this relationship to work, I have to open up my hands and let you fly free.

-Glee

E: So why would you want to be someone else when the someone that you already are is so amazing?
W: Because the boring someone I already am... wasn't good enough for you

-Glee

not so merry single

Of the twenty two years I've lived on this Earth so far, I've been single for twenty one years and seven months. There was only a short amount of time I had a boyfriend, and everyone reading this knows well when that was and who happened to be the lucky guy. In all those years I've been on seven 'official' dates, and I have kissed three different guys. So you can say I'm pretty much used to being single, and while there have been times where that fact has bothered me tremendously, I don't think I've ever felt like such a spinster as these past few weeks. It seems everyone around me is either in a serious relationship, dating someone, or hopping from one person to another every week. And honestly, I don't think I've ever felt so left behind. My two best friends are both in a relationship, one much more serious than the other but both formal enough to take up most of their time. My good friends have their weekends packed with dates and other social events that don't require my presence, and for a while now it seems everyone is so busy with their other half (or halves) they don't have time for me. Actual, quality time, I mean. Because sure, I see a lot of people on a daily basis and I've often hung out with my friends and acquaintances, but usually it involves either the other person only half paying attention to me, with their mind off in another location (with their beloved) or texting like a crazy person or checking fb for any new messages every five minutes; or said person talking about the guy/girl they are currently dating and just how awesome things are. I don't want to sound bitter or resentful, because I am happy for every single friend that has found someone they feel great about, but sometimes I feel like shooting myself in the foot.

Being single sucks.

There, I said it. I don't expect Prince Charming to pop out of nowhere, take me in his arms, and exclaim his undying love for me. I don't expect Mr. Right to come marching along, saying how he's been lost all along without me and how he wants to spend the rest of his life with me. I don't even expect an actual relationship, at that. I just want someone to go out with, have fun and just relax. Someone I can call when my friends ditch me for their 'special someone,' someone I can text randomly without worrying I might be interrupting something. Someone with whom I don't have to worry about being perfect all the time,or hiding my feelings. These days I just wonder if even that is too much to ask. I wish I had the ease some girls have for landing dates, stalkers, potential prospects and dudes that fall all over themselves trying to get their attention, but I don't. Sometimes I even wonder if I have the exact opposite effect, of driving guys away. I've been told, at different times, that I have to be less smart, smarter, less pretty, prettier, less outgoing, more outgoing, less nice, nicer...a whole spectrum of fill-in-the-blank that I'm supposed to change in order to get some attention. But honestly, I'm tired of trying and I'm tired of waiting around. 'Just give it some time, it will come when you least expect it...' yeah well, you know what, I've waited twenty two effing years and that tale is getting old. Knowing your thirteen year old niece has gotten around a lot more than you have even though she is nine years younger is not a fun thing to realize.

Ugh, I know I sound like such a drama queen, and perhaps I'm just pin-pointing small flaws in my life and exacerbating them, but this is exactly how I've felt like these past couple of weeks, and you're all just going to have to deal with it. That whole freedom bullshit....well, turns out it is indeed just bullshit.

falling off track

Month Two
"Oh fuck I fell off the bandwagon. More than once. But hey, these pants fit again!"

Well, I've made it through two whole months of sheer torture. Barely survived, but I'm still living to tell the tale. Although, I have to admit, this last two weeks I haven't been on my best behavior. Sometimes because I happen to be at a friend's house and there is nothing else to eat but pizza and I'm embarassed to turn it down and force my hostess to struggle to cook something for me, and other times because I've given in to temptation. Like yesterday. I ate 'panuchos,' this speciality from Yucatán that consists of fried tortillas with cochinita pibil on top. I should have eaten only the cochinita, but I couldn't resist. So I can only understand I've maintained my weight more or less, no big surprises on the scale lately. So yes, it was bound to happen, and it happened. I fell of the bandwagon, after only two months of restrains, and more than once. But I've come to realize the pleasure that comes in eating fatty food wears off after a while, and only a few hours after -rather guiltily- eating something I shouldn't I can't even remember the taste or why I craved it so much. So I'm working on getting back on track next week, let's see if I can loose a couple more pounds all through November, then just try to survive the holidays and begin a new, slightly stricter regime in January.

On the plus side, yesterday I wore these dark brown pants I had that I bought in Pull & Bear like two years ago, and which I had stored in the back of my closet because they didn't fit anymore. And guess who managed to pull up the zipper and actually feel comortable in them, as opposed to squirmy and too-tight like before? Yup, me. I felt really proud of myself for being able to fit in those pants again, maybe that's why I allowed myself too much indulgence during dinner. But hey, one good news for one bad news isn't so sucky right?

disappointed...

I used to believe in justice. I used to believe that life rewarded you or punished you for your actions, that it was here, on Earth, where one received rewards or punishments. I always figured that, eventually, somehow, I would see the results of doing things right.

But I think I was wrong. People that do stuff right suffer, and those that have it easy are the ones that do the least to deserve it. There is no natural balance in life: things do not work out eventually.

I was naive.

to a brave, kindhearted woman

Today I happened to sit next to a young man with his son on my way back home. At a first glance, there seemed to be nothing wrong with the little guy, who appeared to be around five or six. But at a closer look you could distinguish a yellow and blue ID card hanging from his neck, identifying him as a member of one of the CRIT's in Mexico City. As you all may know, CRIT's are the places constructed with the money people donate to Teleton, an institution created by Televisa to deduct taxes while helping people with disabilities. I noticed he had some plastic things wrapped around his calves, which I assumed helped him walk. All during the ride, the little boy talked and laughed and joked with his dad, who appeared to be a really good guy. Then when it was time for them to get off the Metrobus, and it pained me to see the dad struggle to get off, carrying his son and a large plastic bag that contained some metal pieces I figured helped the kid walk or something. It was really quite a show, because it was stuffed and people didn't really move even though they could all see how he was struggling. Because of this, he missed his stop and had to get off at the next one, which meant walking a whole lot more. But more than the anger I felt at watching this, I began thinking of the familiarity this scene brought back. Who did I known that went through this same ordeals and more?

I began thinking of a woman, one of the bravest, kindest women I know. She had three kids, the two oldest when she was really young, and I can only imagine she went through the same issues the young dad I met today went through, or maybe even more. Her second oldest son suffered from a degenerative disease, and doctors everywhere told her he would never be able to walk, or have a functional life. And yet, I met him last year, and not only can he fully walk, but he was just as much of a functional life as you and me. This woman, while still having to care for two more kids, took him to rehab, to the best hospitals to have surgery, all while juggling the regular life of a housewife that included taking care of her husband and house. In her tiny heels, she walked long distances, carrying one baby, holding the two others by the hand and struggling with her purse and baby bags.

This time, I want to salute a woman that provides an example of courage and guts, of what a well-rounded girl should be like. Her life, and the obstacles she's overcome, inspired me to think that you can do anything you want to as long as you set your mind to it. She's welcomed me into her home, and treated me as part of the family, and I could never thank her enough. You know, we always talk about how amazing our own mothers are, and I am no exception. But this time, I figured I would extend those compliments to a woman that's as close to a second mother as I can get.

Here is to you, Mrs., because it is thanks to women like you that girls can dream of the impossible.

time for change

So, the other day I was doing nothing, just thinking about random things, when I suddenly began mulling over my blog. I've been writing in here for a year and a half now, and I realized I certainly wasn't the same girl I was back when I started all this. I've experienced many changes, some good, some not so much, but if you thought about it my blog no longer reflected my present state of mind. That's when I decided this site needed a makeover. Thanks to my good friend Google I found many gorgeous templates, the hard part was choosing just one. Some were too girly, others too mature, others too bland, and others way to complicated for what I wanted to express. Finally, I settled on this one: Costume Party, because if you think about it, that's what life is, isn't it? A party everyone attends with different masks, always trying to cover up their true feelings and thoughts. I want this to be the place to be a sort of safe haven, where you can take off your mask and be yourself, and rant and scream and be sad and over-emotional, just because you feel like it. I want this blog to be the place where I can feel free to write about what I want, when I want, without any retaliations or hurt feelings.

As you may have noticed, I also changed the title of the blog. The old one just didn't feel like a part of me anymore, especially since I left my teens a pretty long while ago. Cinnamon dance suits this place perfectly, because it describes the emotional rollercoaster this past year and half has been. Sweet, but at times also spicey; exhaustive, emotive, irritating, new, terrifying and very overwhelming. Exactly how it should be, otherwise life would be rather dull and I wouldn't be able to entertain you all with my adventures, right?

So here's to a fresh new start, that will hopefully bring new experiences and many more emotional disasters on my behalf. I look forward to many more posts and lots of new followers and coments!!!!

Toodles.

daughter to father...

Listen
I am alone at a crossroads
I'm not at home in my own home
And I've tried and tried
To say what's on my mind
You should have known.

Oh, Now I'm done believin' you
You don't know what I'm feelin'
I'm more than what you've made of me
I've followed the voice, you gave to me
But now I've gotta find my own
You should have listened.

-Listen

Beyonce