New Beginnings

This year will soon end and another begins. As I have done every year for as long as I can remember I will make time to review the passing year. I will reminisce, contemplate, laugh and no doubt cry. I will check to see what goals I met and which ones I totally ignored. I will read through past journals and wonder if in fact there is "cosmic plan". I'll surprise myself at what I have accomplished and all the things I have survived in the last year. I will count the things I did with great love (even the small things) and will forgive myself for those things or times when ugly thoughts and feelings were the only vibes I gave to everything around me. But it's soon to be a new year and a new beginning.

I am leaving 2008 in perhaps the worse shape ever. This has not been a very good year, not emotionally, not mentally and not physically. I have felt like I was tittering on the edge of very ugly places more times than I have been willing to admit. I have plummeted to some ugly places more times than I have admitted too as well. I loved hard and my heart broke harder. I made some tough decisions and choices, others were made for me as I kicked and screamed refusing to accept what was ultimately inevitable. Yes, there was plenty of despair in 2008, fate was not kind and the gods were not fair.

Not everything was doom and gloom in 2008 (even if it seemed that way to me most of the time). I have many things to be grateful for. I live on a beautiful island, in a beautiful home, on a gorgeous farm. I am blessed (during these trying times) to not have to worry about working or making ends meet. I have an incredible family, a gazillion cousins and friends who love me unconditionally and who have held me up during my worse times. I have been in a position to help those that needed a helping hand and have done so with an open heart, I am grateful they let me into their lives. I am grateful for the insight, support and concern from all you sweet huckleberries. I am grateful that I am still here, battered and bruised but still standing.

My dad use to say as long as you had "hope, faith and love" everything would be alright. In a way it was his holy trinity. It was how he lived his life and what he tried hard to pass onto me. (of course his faith was a lot more Catholic/religion based than mine will ever be but ...) I do have HOPE for a much brighter new year. HOPE that my karma and the cosmic plan will do good by me in the coming year because I do try so hard to do good by it (most of the time). I have FAITH that perhaps this past year was the one where I learned life's hardest lessons and I am a better person because of it. FAITH that I will continue to grow into the person I dream to be. As for LOVE, Yes, I have LOVE because I do, I can, and I was and that makes me very blessed not to mention lucky. So good bye 2008, hello 2009. But please try and be a little more gentle with me this new year. The past year left me a little frayed, OK a lot frayed around the edges but in hindsight frayed could have been worse, I could have been broken but I'm not, and I am still here, able to see a glimmer of new beginnings.

From the Asylum to all of you "Happy New Year", may it be filled health, happiness and beautiful new beginnings.

Besos, Es

Merry

From my padded cell here at the Asylum ... Have a wonderful Holiday.
(wake me when it's over)

It cost so little and means so much

So I am a "bah humbug" kind of girl. Not sure why because I have fabulous holiday memories. Perhaps it's the commercialism, maybe it's just cynicism. But I was thinking that there are some things I could wish for this Christmas. Things that might make me happy:

• Puerto Rico time to equal my concept of time. If you claim you will be at my house at 9AM then damn it, let it be 9AM. Not 11AM or 2 days later, 9AM! Puerto Ricans are not too concerned with time, bugs the hell out of me.
• Peace on Earth, goodwill to men. 8 full hours of peaceful sleep.
  
• A goat, I would really like a goat. A baby goat.
• A love letter, not the romantic boy/girl kind (although that would be sweet) but the kind that reminds you how fabulous you are and how the decisions and sacrifices of the last 4 years were right even if they cost you a broken heart.
• 3 days alone. All alone, like by myself, just me, not anyone else, get it ... me all about me.
• Running water and electricity for a whole month without interruptions in service. I just want to take a hot shower any fucking time I want with total abandon.
• A chance to make amends.
• Blogger to work right and post pictures where I want them.
  
• A few days in Vegas or a hiking trip.
  
• A few days with old friends. (this doesn't include my up coming Comadres week or cousins reunion)
• This Christmas ornament because it's too fugly not to be cute.
  

• Or this Ornament because, well it's a goat, did I mention I wanted a goat?

• A less tumultuous new year.

What are you wishing for this Christmas?

Cat on the loose

Puerto Rico has a panther on the loose. For the last week a panther has been helping himself to livestock on the island. It has been spotted in 3 areas. (Caimito, Rio Piedras, and Monte Hiedra) Our government is devising a plan to catch him. Of course our government also tried to catch the monkeys that were ruining crops and they failed miserably at that. I think they caught one but alas we still have a monkey problem.

I am thinking catching the panther might be a priority since perhaps he might be a more serious problem to humans than the monkeys. No one knows how a panther (not indigenous to the island) got here. The newspaper claims it got here illegally .... duh, ya think? I for one am sure he didn't get here on his own. Let's just hope there's more luck catching the panther than there was catching the monkeys.

Soon to return

Dearest Huckleberries,

I have been so neglectful of the asylum and the 3 or 4 million of you that stop in to visit. I haven't felt much like writing. When I do feel like writing it isn't anything pleasant because ya know my mood tends to be foul of late. And lets face it this blog has been a bit of a downer more times than not lately. So I have chosen to be silent rather then continue my downward spiral at the asylum.

My mood isn't much better but I do so love the asylum and have decided that writing is a joyous thing so am going to focus on a little writing, perhaps some remodeling, this place could use a little paint to freshen it up. Just to get me started back on the right track here are some totally useless things to share with you:

• In recent months I bought fresh blueberries and pomegranates. If you're thinking not a big deal, you would be wrong. It is a big deal when those items are imported to the island. I paid $7 for the the pint of blueberries and $17 for the 6 pomegranates. As with most food items that are imported to this island, you buy them when you see them because you may never see them again. You pay exaggerated prices because that's just the way it goes. So I bought them. The blueberries were used to make pancakes, YUM! Worth every penny. I had not eaten a pomegranate since moving here 4 years ago. I love them. They were the biggest ones I have ever seen and were simply scrumptious. Deliciously sweet, almost decadent and worth every incredibly overpriced cent. It made me happy.
• My house is in the process of getting a makeover, roofs were leaking and now have been sealed, painting is progressing at a snails pace due to the constant daily rain. But damn, it's starting to look fabulous.
• The holiday season is here, Bah fucking Humbug, yeah that's my attitude.
  
• Tuesday (Dec. 9th) would have been my parents 53rd wedding anniversary, breaks my heart, fills it with sorrow. Fuck!
• I have a couple memes to do, have been reading your blogs. (promise to start commenting again this week, well maybe) You huckleberries are a creative bunch and greatly amusing.
• Poi is an interesting character from my neighborhood. I have watched him walk up and down our road for the past 4 years. He is always followed by at least 4 dogs. He is disheveled, very dirty looking and hasn't had a haircut for at least the 4 years that I have watched him. He basically ignores everyone, just wanders around, picking things out of trash cans, followed by his trusty pack of dogs. For 4 years I have gone out of my way to greet him, "hello, good morning, Hi, how are you?, good afternoon". At first he ignored me, then he started sticking his tongue out at me, then a couple weeks ago he said hi back. (Progress, after just 4 years) Now he sometimes blows me kisses or waves first. Last week I found out his story. Poi was once married and had a 5 year old son. He also had his own business. About 6 years ago his little son was killed by a passing car. It left Poi and his wife broken, so broken that they each fell apart. their marriage ended, he lost his business, turned to alcohol and slowly became the "man he is today". He no longer has a family, or a home. He isn't always coherent. He relies on people in our neighborhood to feed him, lives where ever he finds cover, always protected by his dogs. He exist a broken crazy man who now takes the time to wave at me. I wonder where my breaking point is. Do we all have one? That place that is so painful and ugly that we break. Kinda makes me want to stop whining about how much this year sucks the juice of pond scum. Kinda but not yet.
• Speaking of whining, this year really fucking sucks, ton's.
• Despite my obvious misery I am still absolutely in awe of the beauty that is this island. The night sky filled with so many stars it becomes a challenge to find specific constellations because I am so distracted by all the twinkling. The incredible burst of color at almost every sunrise and sometimes sunset. The lush vegetation, the island air. Puerto Rico truly is "la isla del encanto".
• I use to be able to flip back and forth between English and Spanish with ease. Completely fluent in both, translations were a breeze. I can't do that lately. My pronunciation in either language is seriously lacking. I get stuck trying to think of a particular word in either language. I sometimes start off in English and end up in Spanish and don't notice until the clerk gives me that blank "I have no clue what you are talking about" look. It's a little crazy.
  
• Tony, there was a Ramito festival in Caguas this weekend. I didn't go but I would have gone in a heart beat had you been in town.
• I am still at war with my loud neighbors and still have a pigeon problem.
• My brother has a new girlfriend, she sings in the church choir, young love, arrgghh.
• I once again for the gazillion time this year must thank you for the concern. Your short notes, comments and texts have been warmly received even if I haven't acknowledged them. Truth be known every month there seems to be another reason why life sucks, why I am sad and miserable. Every month that goes by I have a better understanding about why some people "break". Every month I am still here grasping at the small things, hoping they are enough to get me through another day. Every Month I realize I still have enough strength and humor to get through one more day. Every month I wonder how helpful sleeping pills or anti-depressants might be. But every so often I think "this too shall pass" and I'll be OK. And life does go on ... only it's different than the life I once loved. But I'll grow to love this one too, only differently. So there you have my last "misery" rant, well maybe not my last. I will be back, with a lot less whining, well maybe not a lot less whining but a better attitude, well maybe not that either but I will be back soon. Promise.

Besos, Es
(feed the turtles, it's my attempt at something joyful)

I did Vote today

I just got back from voting. The whole process took about an hour. Here in my part of the world I don't think things have been any different from any where else on the planet. The politicians have made numerous promises, touted their expertise, slung a little mud, yelled and ranted to no end. There were many rallies and tons of fliers.

Puerto Rico has an incredible high percentage of people who vote. Statistics claim that from 95-98 percent of registered voters do vote. Politics is part of our culture. Everyone feels it is their right and their duty to vote. All island schools from kindergarten to high school hold mock elections to teach all students about the candidates and the voting process. The process is presented in ways that accommodate age. My 5 year old neighbor told me she voted for the candidate that offered her the new colorful playground. A 16 year old told me he voted based on what candidate offered more ideas for a better school system. All those votes are not counted but everyone learns about the system, their right to vote and their duty to the country. Obviously given the high percentage of voter turnout, indoctrinating children and young adults year after year to the importance of voting does have an effect. Everyone has the day off today. Everything is closed and alcohol cannot be served or bought until midnight. Selling booze on election day will get you a $5,000.00 fine. The only focus on the island today is voting.

I attended a rally for my town Mayor (who is running for re-election) on Sunday. It was a cultural community event. A celebration. There was food and music peppered with a healthy dose of politics. People of all ages discussing the pros and cons of issues. Heated discussions, laughter, and of course plenty of drinking, eating and dancing. To be Puerto Rican means you vote. Means you attend rallies, and talk politics every chance you get to make certain that everyone knows the issues and votes. We are as passionate about politics as we are about sex, family and culture. And that's pretty damn passionate.

I come from a family of political activists. People who are willing to die for their beliefs (some have) and for the protection of our rights here on the island. I come from a family that represents a vast array of political beliefs as well as political affiliations. I come from a family that believes you must stand up for what you believe and you must be counted, it is our right. I went and voted today to honor my family name and because it is my right. I am proud to be a part of the process that makes my country a free country.

I hope where ever you are, you too have the right to vote. I hope where ever you are, you exercise that right and not take it for granted.

And in case you are wondering as a resident of Puerto Rico I can not vote in presidential elections but if I could, I would have cast my vote for Barack Obama today.

I felt the earth move

On Saturday (oct. 11) I was sitting on the couch finishing my second cup of coffee before heading to my 7 AM hair appointment, when the couch started to tremble. Hmmm, I thought to myself, that's kind of odd. As the couch started to shake so did the table and the phone and other items through out the house. I felt the earth move under my feet, and as soon as I stopped singing the Carole King song, I realize we were having an earthquake. The earthquake happened on 6:40 AM and registered 6.1 (Richter scale) and it was felt through out the U.S. and British Virgin Islands as well. This was the worse earthquake to strike Puerto Rico in years.

Did you know we had earthquakes? (bet ya didn't) We have earthquakes because we are near the Puerto Rico trench. The trench being the deepest part of the Atlantic ocean. The trench region posses significant seismic and tsunami hazards to Puerto Rico and the U.S. Virgin Islands. I am not at all clear on why the trench has this "shaking ability" but it has something to do with being the most negative free-air gravity anomaly on Earth as well as having large landslide escarpments, trench axis and left lateral strike slip motion. Frankly, the why we have earth quakes in P.R. doesn't really matter, point is, I felt the earth move under feet.

Four strong earthquakes have affected Puerto Rico since it's colonization. The first one was in 1670 and the magnitude was not determined. On May 2, 1787 an earthquake registered 8.0 and cause significant structural damage through out the island. On November 18, 1867 a 7.5 magnitude earthquake hit followed by a tsunami that ran in land 490 feet, then on October 11, 1918 it was a 7.5 quake accompanied by a tsunami that was 19.5 feet high.

There have been numerous tremors through out the years but with this weekend's quake, the island was all abuzz about what could happen or might have happened or will happen should a "big one hit". A lot of people were afraid. As for me, well lets face it, this year has sucked mightily so far and I just don't care to think about the "big one". (unless of course it has to do with male genitalia) So I am just walking around doing what I got to do, singing or humming "I feel the earth move under my feet, I feel the sky tumbling down, I feel my heart start to trembling, whenever your around ". Damn I can't get that song out of my head ...

RIF - Boobs

Grope your breasts ... October is breasts cancer awareness month.

1. Breast cancer is the most common (excluding skin cancer) cancer among women affecting one in four women.
2. Breast cancer incidence and death rates generally increase with age. 97 % of of deaths occur in women age 40 or older.
3. White women have a higher incidence of breast cancer after age forty than African American women. In contrast African American women have a higher incidence rate before age 40 and are more likely to die from breast cancer at any age.
4. Early detection can save your life.

So my little huckleberries grope your breasts, do it your self, or have someone do it for you. Make a game of it, but do breast self exams every chance you get. Go get a mammogram, do it, schedule it now. Boobs, tits, breasts, bosoms, hooters, jugs, boulders, mammary cannons, melons, twin peaks ... what ever you call 'em take good care of them, your life depends on it. (and don't forget to moisturize)

This has been a public service announcement.

Asi esta la cosa

Just some rambling about stuff at the asylum.

• Weather: after all that rain, 8 towns were declared disaster areas, FEMA is on the way. Now the sun is shining and it's been beautiful outside except for the humidity which was 71% today. The night sky has been a brilliant canopy of stars. We are back to tropical paradise.
• El gato: my cat was sick on Saturday, throwing up and very sluggish. I was scared. I love my gato and I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to him. He is all better and so am I.
• Eyes: a couple months ago as I was planning a little get away vacation to the west, my vision became very blurry. My eyes were itchy and red and I felt like giant boulders had taken residence in my eyelids. I had a severe bacterial infection that required, eye drops, oral antibiotics and all sorts of ointments. As if that wasn't bad enough, the bacteria invaded a mole (on my eyelid) and caused it to grow to about the size of a giant redwood, only not as majestic. End result ... surgery, stitches, another round of all sorts of antibiotics. My vision has sucked for the past 2 months, but it's better now and so am I. (Stitches come out Thursday.)
• Google reader: sweet cracker sandwich, I could not get the bitch to load all my feeds and allow me my daily fix of all your blogs, as well as my various other interests for 3 days! Got it all figured out, no thanks to Google. Just has I was having withdrawal symptoms, you are all back and life is good. and so am I.
• Visitors: My niece Melissa was here for a week. She is beautiful and funny and loving and as crazy as the rest of us at the asylum. She was a great distraction from my depressive self. Love ya Melissa and glad you were here. Thanks so very much for the "flip". Expect to see some videos at the asylum as soon as I take some and can figure out how to add them. (yeah, I know you hate this picture, right out of the shower, blah blah, but you gotta love that t shirt)
• Grief: it has it's ups and downs. Some days I feel fine, some days I don't. I find I have a short fuse these days. But I am better, it does get better. I think, maybe.
• Books: I need some new stuff to read. Any suggestions? What about books for my ipod? My vision isn't clear enough to enjoy reading right now but I can listen. And I have a $50 itunes gift card just itching to be be spent.
• ipod: I got a new ipod this week and it is sweet. We now have 7 ipods in this household, overkill? ... no fucking way.
• Sadness: overwhelming on any given day for a whole cacophony of reasons. No longer feeling close among them.
• Gratitude: For every single one of you sweet huckleberries, My Familia, my comadres, slowing finding the courage to sew up some loose ends, spreading my wings, learning to say goodbye.
  

Rain and more Rain

According to the National Weather service:

A low pressure center over Puerto Rico is not yet a tropical depression but could become one soon . A flash flood watch has been posted for Puerto Rico and the U. S. Virgin Islands and flash flood warnings are in effect for parts of eastern Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands. Dangerous flooding and mudslides will be an issue through Monday.

We have gotten 15 inches of rain since last night, reports claim we will average approximately 4 inches of rain per hour today. The temperature has dropped from 98 degrees to a chilly 72 degrees. You are probably thinking 72 isn't chilly but when your home is built of cinder block and cement and you live on a tropical island with extreme humidity and the temperature drops more than 25 degrees, trust me it's a chilly damp air that invades your core, OK my core but whatever.
That's the view from my balcony, behind all that gray are green lush mountains and palm trees. Yesterday after a little housework I spent the day in bed, looks like today I am doing the same.

"Into each life some rain must fall, some days must be dark and dreary"
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Time

It's been a long time since I posted. I haven't really felt like saying much. I'm not socializing, keeping up with my email, or my blog comments, in fact I am not doing much of anything. I am still just struggling to get through each day. I have never been very good at sharing my pain or hurt. (although I am better than I use to be) I have this tendency to isolate myself from life when I can't get things to make sense to me. I go through the motions and do what needs to be done but I do as little as is needed to accomplish the task. I talk when I have to, drive when I have to, yeah, basically I just live because it seems I have to. I have been sick a lot in the last 4 months and still feel a non specific physical malaise. If you look at all the signs (and I have) depression seems to have reared it's ugly head. Anger is way up there as well. Yeah and all those other stages of grief have followed. Having loved ones die sucks the juice of pond scum.

My cousin Tony says "time heals nothing, you just have to set your mind at healing and do it". I agree it's all a mind thing, an attitude thing but time does allow you the room to start healing. Time allows you the freedom to ponder, reflect, contemplate where you want to go and even why taking certain paths are the wiser choice. My cousin Olga said that when her sister died (my cousin Gilda) the hardest part was realizing that no one understood the depth of her grief. I find that to be true as well. Everyone around me has also suffered a loss but no one understands the magnitude of my loss. (not that they should). It's one of the many pieces which leads to isolation. I need to be alone with my pain because no one feels it like I do, no one lived it like I did or have. I have felt so broken in the last 4 months that I was surprised everyday that I bothered to wake up and get out of bed. Sadly many days I wished I hadn't bothered to get up.

Many years ago I read a quote that I have always held close because it somehow matched how I felt I lived my life. I can't remember who said it ( I could look it up but why bother) it read " When you come to the end of all the light you have known and are about to step into the darkness of the unknown. Faith is knowing that one of two things will happen. There will be something solid to stand on or you will be taught how to fly". Through all the trials and tribulations of my life I have found I've always had something solid to stand on. Right now, at this moment in my life I am hoping to learn to fly.

Which brings me back to time ... time is slowly teaching me to fly. I am doing better, each day feels lighter. Each day sucks a little less then the day before. That's progress. I still don't feel physically well but I am sleeping better and that helps. I have managed to go shopping and buy clothes that fit. It's rather surprising how much weight I have lost in four months. Then again maybe it's just as surprising how much I had gained prior to the last 4 months. Either way, I now have pants/shorts that fit and people are constantly commenting about how skinny I have gotten. Time allowed me to realize that losing weight was a good thing, how I went about losing weight was a bad thing.

I am doing better. I need to make some life decisions, find a new direction. I am mentally making note of things I need to do and how it will affect those around me. I've been keeping up with the news. Although I am a U.S. citizen, I am not a resident of the U.S. so I can't vote in presidential elections. If I could vote I would not be voting for the duo that insults my intelligence and stands for taking away my freedom of choice. My body, my choice, 'nuff said. We haven't been in a hurricane's direct path (like in Haiti or Cuba) but the extreme weather did cause us to lose power and water for 5 days. I don't really give a shit about Lesley Lohan and her sexuality. Nor do I care much about who is currently entering rehab and why. I do care that Lawrence Fishburn is joining the cast of CSI.

Time doesn't heal but it compliments the healing process. It's been a slow process and I don't really feel much like "me" right now but I can sense that I am still here, just a little more convoluted then I use to be. I still feel hurt but not as broken. I still want to sleep the day away but not as often. I still want to isolate myself but am starting to miss my family and friends. I still don't feel well but sleeping normal hours and eating daily meals are happening more often. I don't feel like I have something solid to stand on but with time on my side I am learning to fly.

Finally (yeah, bet you thought this post was never gonna end) I must thank each and everyone one of you (again and again) for the emails, comments, texts, phone calls, threats, bribery, and positive energy sent my way. I may be depressed but I never lose sight of the love. Muchas gracias from the bottom of my convoluted corazon. I hope to be back posting more often after a couple more flying lessons.

Cabo Rojo

I have absolutely nothing of any real substance to post about right now. But while I was pondering how to advertise for a new muse, I went to the beach. I live on an island that's what we do when we need an escape from ... well you know, an escape from the lush vegetation. I went to Cabo Rojo. (you can read about Cabo Rojo by following the link). I'm still working on getting rid of this massive void in my heart but the sun and ocean did some good. I did take a few pictures for your viewing enjoyment. Salt flats More salt flats
One of the many things Cabo Rojo is known for is it's salt flats. In Fact "el Combate" beach is so named for the fights that took place among locals for possession of the salt flats. (salt was once worth a pretty penny)

El Combate Beach, it was this crowded all week.

Look at those crowds! There must be 10 people in the water.

My beach chair, where I sat pondering life, on the very crowded beach.

Nothing like bringing a 16 year old along when you ponder life. (my brother, Albert)

An even better thing to do when "pondering life" is to bring 3 sixteen year olds with you to the beach. See that look on my brothers face? He was really into the whole pondering thing.

The beach was fun, I got a little sun burnt, I left with no answers to any of my life's questions but I escaped the sadness for a short while and that was worth it. (And my hives are almost gone, in case you were wondering).

Get the party started

I haven't been here in a while. The last few weeks have moved at a snails pace and often times I have felt I was watching from a distance. Watching from far away but not too far, just far enough to stay engaged yet not let on to how I really feel. Know what I mean? The hives are better, yet the grief is worse. The energy involved in day to day living is exhausting. I'm tired. The insomnia is kicking my ass. If I sleep it's for short spurts. I toss and turn, my mind wanders. I ponder the last 4 months, the last year, the last 4 years and so on until I fall asleep again. Not the flowers in my hair nor my favorite red pants are helping to get me out of this funk.

Ever have one of those moments in life when you question all the whys? Why did he have to die? Why are people so stupid? Why does my cat think he can get his big fat ass into that small round space? Why are the lizards in the back of the house bright green and the ones in the front of the house brownish? Why do I feel so alone lately? Why am I here? Why are life's lessons so fucking hard? Why can't I find shorts I like? Why are my boobs breasts standing between me and that great t shirt that doesn't come in my size because I happen to have boobs breasts.? Why do some women insist on wearing clothes that are 2 sizes too small? Why do these women think they look sexy? Why can't these same women get a fucking pedicure before they squeeze those ugly cracked feet into too small sandals? Why do I find myself weeping at the most inopportune times? Why do I feel I should rant to you about all this shit? Because I am having one of those moments where I question the whys. And I'm miserable and you know what they say, "misery loves company" and I just invited you to my "misery party". Lucky little huckleberries.

My party decor will be brown, I hate the color brown. I'm adding a little splash of some bright cheerful color (like red or purple) because well, I'm miserable not suicidal. There is a guest register, be sure to sign in. Otherwise I may not remember you were here. Misery = forgetful, your mind gets a little cloudy from sadness and lack of sleep. What about misery party food? I'm supplying mangoes and avocados (they are fabulous not miserable) but they are in season right now and I can't give those things away. We'll add a few rotten ones just to take the misery down a notch. We have plenty of bananas as well, take some on your way out. There will be several Jello molds, nothing like 3 or 4 Jello molds to bring a party down. As for beverages ... hell yeah, plenty of that. only the alcoholic kind allowed. Alcohol fuels misery, don't ya know. How about drugs, you ask? Drugs, sure, bring your own. Just keep it on the "low" those are illegal, and I would never do anything illegal. (wink wink, nudge nudge). Party favors? Absolutely! Misery loves presents. Your "Misery party bag" comes in your choice of colors, brown and another shade of brown, both festooned with gravestones and the grim reaper in a glittery beige hue. Copies of Silvia Plath's (aka Victoria Lucas) "The bell jar", and " The Stranger" by Albert Camus will be among the fabulous gifts inside. I'm including some gummy bears and chocolate (because again we are miserable not suicidal) and lastly one of those rubber/plastic bracelets to commemorate the miserable occasion. It will read "Resistance is futile, you will be assimilated" (quote stolen from the Borg). Please feel free to bring me a gift worthy of my sadness. Party on my little huckleberries.

In comments please RSVP and let me know if you are bringing anything or what you're wearing for such an inauspicious occasion.

Random Information Friday (aka RIF)

Things I haven't yet told you about:

• We had a presidential primary here. Mr. and Mrs. Obama were here, as were the Clintons. I did not vote. What?! Why?! Because I am not allowed to vote in a presidential election. Our commonwealth status forbids it. So I can vote in a primary but not in the presidential election. WTF. Sorry, I'm an all or nothing kind of girl. That's just how I roll.

• It's summer and we are already doing "hurricane prep". Checking lanterns, generators, cutting back any trees that can/may fall on the house, placing extra reading material and board games in easy to find locations, stocking up on candles, water. etc.

• Speaking of summer time, I don't care how bad chancletas may be for my feet, I gotta have 'em. Perhaps when I'm old and lamenting my fallen arches, I'll think differently but not now.

• I have been nursing a bad case of hives this week. They itch, they look yucky. I have tried all sorts of remedies, so far all I've manage to do is relieve some of the itch. Sucks really.

• I'm not sleeping well and continue to vacillate between feeling OK emotionally and being depressed. I guess losing a loved one does that.

• I need to buy new clothes. I hate everything I see. I'm not sure when flat chested, anorexic styles came into play but I am neither of those. woe is me.

• This article cracks me up. I wonder how different the English speaking me and the Spanish speaking me are. Do we get along? If you met me, which personality would you like more?

• I'm still having pigeon problems. We have about 20 baby chicks roaming the land, apparently the roosters have been very busy.
  

• The neighbor's dog is no longer a problem but the neighbors are. They are loud, obnoxious, inconsiderate jerks. They need me to allow the town access to my property so a dead tree, behind their house (which could fall on their house during a storm) can be cut down. Yeah, I am going to do that ... NOT. Sorry, I am not going to play nice. Respect and kindness go a long. Perhaps you should try that and then maybe I'll reciprocate.

• I live in the 2nd happiest place in the world. (according to this survey sent to me by the wonderful T). Denmark is numero uno.

• Happy Birthday Papito Rei. Am thinking of you comadre Loli.

I steal therefore I am

These beautiful flowers were the center piece on a table I walked by. I decided I would really enjoy them, so I took them. I am sure that who ever they belonged to would have wanted me to have them because they cheered me up. I giggled all the way home, knowing I stole them.

At least 10 people watched me take them and walk out with them, no one said a word and no one stopped me. I took that as a sign that they were meant to be mine. Of course I am not advocating that all of you just take stuff you find pretty, stealing is bad. What I did was wrong, bad karma, stealing is bad, did you hear me, bad, don't do it. Unless of course you can get away with it, like I did. (I'm kidding, sort of, kinda) Damn it was fun and those flowers sure are pretty.

Feliz dia de los Padres

No matter how much time passes, the void left by my dads death will never be filled. I am missing you greatly, still, today, always.

My dad and mom doing the sexy beach thing, what the hell was he thinking with that suit?

United States Army: served in Korea

One of many girlfriends, he loved the ladies.

Cousin Tony, my dad and Tia Felisa

That's one big piece of meat! It was a gift from one of his nephews.



Dad, you were perfect, and I'm not just saying that because I am your daughter. I have heard it said time and time again by everyone who ever knew you. Your sense of humor, your love of life, your devotion to family, your honesty, your work ethic and your compassion all traits I sure hope you passed on to me.
Te adoro, estaras siempre en mi corazon.

The end

Dearest Huckleberries,

With overwhelming sadness I sit here trying to decide what to tell you about the last week. It was a horrible week and the details are many. Death finally arrived on Sunday, May 25th at around 6AM. We brought our loved one home on Thursday, deciding that dying at home was perhaps the only viable, yet painful thing left to do. Hospice care was in place, as was all the equipment necessary to make the last days as comfortable as possible. Between Thursday night when we arrived home from the hospital to Sunday morning when this part of my life ended, we had a steady stream of people in and out of the house. Doctors, nurses, friends and family all working to making things as easy as possible under the circumstances.

I slept in the room with "love" every night, OK truth is I didn't really sleep but I was there to do all that needed to be done. I was there all night to listen to the labored breathing, and the oxygen machine. I was there all night to do things I never imagined I could do but did, all in the hope that the suffering was lessened by my feeble nursing attempts. I was there all night to wonder why and to fear the inevitable end. I was there standing by the bed as the last breath was taken on Sunday morning. I made each and every phone call to everyone who needed to be informed. I made all the arrangements. I was there each and every moment of the last 7 weeks. I was there until the very end.

The images from this journey creep into my brain every so often filling me with grief and undeniable pain. Somewhere in my head I can still hear the gurgling, the suction machine and the oxygen tank. Somewhere in my head I can still hear that last breath. Somewhere in my head I can still see those gorgeous blue eyes, empty and awaiting death. I am physically exhausted, emotionally numb. I have moments when the sadness makes me want to curl into a fetal position. And moments when I make a list of all the things that need to still be done. This I do while feeling completely detached from the task at hand. I have already started to sort through stuff, deciding what should be thrown away, what should I give away, what should be donated and of course there is that pile of stuff that I can't stand to even look at right now.

I wasn't ready for the "dying" part. I knew it was coming, I was expecting it, but I wasn't ready for it to show up without warning me. It never gave me a sign that it was so close and for this I am angry. Would it had been easier if I had been told it was moments away? Perhaps not. Are we ever really ready to face the inevitable end? Sometimes this journey flashes before me in short snippets. Images of various scenes, the hospital, a nurse, the cafeteria, the blood, and the faces of my family and the worse one, the body being taken away.

I am still mostly silent. I don't feel the need to say much, everything seems so trivial. I speak when I have to, otherwise I prefer not to. Sometimes the silence in my own head is deafening. ( I now understand that phrase... silence being deafening) As yet another saying goes "life does go on" and so we shall. In time. Slowly.

It sucks to be me right now but there are some things I am grateful for, despite my grief. I witnessed many random acts of kindness during this journey. There was a complete stranger who bought me coffee, or the one who held my hand never speaking a word, another who brought us lunch, people we didn't know, who witnessed our pain and tried to make it better. I am grateful for the medical team who were wonderful and compassionate. The hospice team was a true gift. All the people who came to the funeral, family and friends, I am grateful. To all of you, who kept me company via your comments, emails, voice mails and texts. To my comadres, who daily, for this entire time "had my back". To Tony and Daisy, I can never truly put into words what the two of you have meant to me during this. Your love, and support reminded me every day that I would be OK. I know what a sacrifice you made to be here this week from cash, to work, to your personal lives and I am so unbelievably grateful. To the love of my vida, yet again you sat quietly in the background, but trust me, not once did I ever forget you were there. Not once did I ever forget you were ready to do whatever it took to hold me together. I am truly grateful for all of you.

Today, as I have done every day this week, I remind myself that there are wonderful memories to fill some of the void. I remind myself that yes, it will get better and the void will get smaller and I'll be OK, in time. Slowly. Ever so slowly. For now I will go back to making my lists and sorting through stuff and allow myself the time to curl up into a fetal position if time allows, crying when I can't stop the steam of tears. For today I will pretend it's a "normal" day, cuddle my cat (if he lets me) and look forward to the day when life will be almost normal, almost normal in a different way.

Besos, Es

Dear Huckleberries

Dearest Huckleberries,

This horrible journey continues. This week we were faced with more internal bleeding and the need for yet another pint of blood. The double pneumonia is worse. There is an infection just about every where, and the body just keeps laboring on. Almost on a daily basis the doctors remind us that "today could be the day, the end". Every day we wait and watch someone we adore slowly die.

Almost every day I am faced with more decisions that need to be made, and more papers to sign. And every night as I say goodnight, I wonder if this is last time I'll witness the labored breathing, if while I lay sleepless and crying in bed the phone will ring and it will be "the call". Everyday I wonder if I'll make it through the day without wailing like a banshee. Everyday I wonder why. Everyday I wonder how much stronger I can or need to be.

I stand strong and silent most of the time. I understand that I set the mood for all the other family members. If I fall apart so shall they. I am most impressive when dealing with doctors and having to explain to the rest of the family what is happening. I am concise, keeping my words simple and I have mastered my "poker face". Alone in bed or in the shower it's my chance to whimper. I find I also cry at the strangest times. Like when asked "would you like fries with that?", or when a nurse recently said "what a lovely t shirt", or the morning the mechanic asked me to sign my bill, and of course the day the sales clerk asked if he could help, I whimpered and just walked away.

I am tired. Tired emotionally and physically. I want to sleep for hours, that deep undisturbed sleep. I am tired of forcing myself to eat at least one meal a day. I have lost 18 pounds. I am tired of being strong. I am tired of driving. I am tired of hearing about God and her abilities to heal, decide ones fate and of the comfort I should be feeling if I focus on God. I am tired. Tired.

On a brighter note, I have at long last been given the "balls of steel" I have been looking for. The lovely WNG as awarded me some. I am going to carry those around proudly today, gracias you made me chuckle which beats the hell of of whimpering.

Lastly, thank you (again and again) for all the love and kindness. I am humbled by how you manage to consistently check up on me, thank you for taking the time to be here.

Besos, Es

bedside

Dearest Huckleberries,

I am currently maintaining a bedside vigil. Just waiting for things to end. We have heard from the doctors that this journey could be over any day. (of course I have heard that since last week.) We wait, and sit and wait. I ponder all the "why is this happening?" and all the "what if's" and all the "then what". I have no answers.

I am frustrated and have many moments of overwhelming grief.
Sometimes we are given a glimmer of hope and then it's quickly taken away. Then we just sit and wait some more. I find I am more quiet now, sometimes just refusing to speak because I fear the wail that might escape my lips before I can stop it. Sometimes I just keep my words to a minimum, idle chit chat at best. Sleep is becoming a distant memory. A wrong number in the middle of the night, makes my body shake uncontrollably and mother fucker has become my choice response.

I am now entering the numb stage of my emotions but before completely caving in to that desire to feel nada, I want to thank you. Gracias for keeping me company. The warm loving thoughts, the positive energy, the emails, comments, phone calls, and text messages, muchas gracias. I am truly touched by your kindness. You have proven once again that each and every one of you is simply fabulous.

To those of you who are my blog pals, talk about fabulous berries! You crack me up and I do feel the love. I am astounded by the kindness of strangers (let's face it, you are all a bit strange). I am truly grateful for your friendship.

To my comadres del alma, who would have thought that meeting all those years ago in "latino Leaders" would bring us to this sisterhood. Gracias, estaran siempre en mi corazon, las adoro.

To my cousins, Virginia and Aury, coming back from the hospital to a clean house and home cooked meals is a gift. Gracias, I have no idea how I will ever repay all those random acts of kindness you have both constantly given. To Tony and Daisy, what can I say about both of you. You have no idea how much help you have been from far away. I love you.

To the love of my vida (you know who you are) You are constantly picking up the pieces of my broken heart, so unselfishly standing by and loving me unconditionally. Knowing you are standing on the sidelines waiting to catch me, brings me peace.

I look forward to all you hugs and love, to the promises of vodka, and the silly thoughts. I look forward to the positive words, it's what keeps me a little sane right now. I am grateful beyond words.

Besos, Es

Broken

Dearest Huckleberries,

I am so lost and heart broken. I have spent the last week watching someone I simply adore and love madly slowly wither away before my very eyes. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I just can't.

The death of Papito Rei in January broken my heart in places that were already a little fragile. I've been meaning to tell you all about Rei, he was a most amazing person, and you missed out not knowing him, I'll get around to that tale at some point. The recent health scare of yet another love of my vida broke me just a little bit more. And now ... well now I'm thinking all the little pieces are going to be harder to put back together.

So why the fuck am I blogging right now? Because I need to do something and I don't have the physical energy to do anything else. I've read your comments and emails and as always, you are fabulous and I feel the love, gracias, muchas gracias.

I am spending most of my waking hours at the hospital. Today I did the hardest thing yet. I signed the dreaded "DO NOT RESUSCITATE" papers. Let me tell ya my little huckleberries, If I thought I was kicked in the balls last week, this week even "balls the size of church bells" would not hold up well.

I'm letting you know how bad things are, yet being vague because I can't bear to type the details. Perhaps another day. I thought I had plenty to say but I don't, so I'm done. Goodnight, don't let the bedbugs bite. And thank you again for all that positive energy you are sending my way. Keep it coming. I'll write again when I can.

Besos, Es.

Kicked in the balls

Life is kicking me in the balls. For the record I don't have balls but if I did, life would certainly be kicking me in the balls. How can a girl go from living and relaxing in bliss one day and less then 48 hours later be writhing in pain? The emotional kind of writhing in pain and as we all know, emotional pain is the worse kind of pain. I don't know what I have done in my short life to warrant such extreme cruelty from the gods but ... motherfuckers!

If I had balls, which I don't but if I did, they would be smashed/kicked to smithereens by now. I have always been a "glass is half full kind" of girl. I bask in the good days and let the bad days roll but rat bastards, enough already. The glass is starting to look half empty and that sucks the juice of pond scum!

This is the "Asylum" and as such you would expect things to be a tad crazy, but hell this isn't crazy this is damn fucking insane and not insane in a good way. (yeah I think some insanity is a good thing). This my little huckleberries is the bad insanity. Life sucks, there I said it and I'm proud.

Your regularly scheduled programing (such as "RIF") will return as soon as I develop some balls of steal.

Way to spend an afternoon

The weather has been nothing short of absolutely gorgeous lately. So how did I spend my time? Thought you'd never ask ...

Giving in to the inviting hammock.
















Surrounded by color.



Sipping on ice cold fresh coconut water, while trying to decide if I should eat the fresh fig or the pomegranate first.



Deciding that eating the soft fleshy inside of my coconut was the way to go.

Random Information Friday

• 
• The science of kissing is called philematology.

• The fear of kissing is called philematophobia.

• In Naples, Italy in the 16th century, kissing was an offense that carried the death penalty.

• You burn 26 calories in a one minute kiss.

• A simple pucker uses two muscles, the upper and lower orbicularis otis surrounding the lips. A passionate kiss uses all 34 facial muscles.

• The Catholic church declared kissing to be a mortal sin in the middle ages.

• The average person will spend an estimated 20,160 minutes kissing in their lifetime.

• International kissing day is February 5th.

• A study at Princeton University in 1997 concluded that our brains are equipped with neurons that helps us find our lovers lips in the dark.

• Canadian porcupines kiss one another on the lips.

• 50 % of all people kiss before they turn 14.

• In Indiana it is illegal for a mustached man to habitually kiss human beings. In Hartford it is illegal for a man to kiss his wife on Sunday and in Cedar Rapids, Iowa it's a crime to kiss a stranger.

• In the middle ages a person who could not write/read would sign documents with an X. They would kiss this mark as a sign of sincerity. Eventually the X came to represent the kiss itself.

• A kiss can contain 278 of different bacteria. 95% of which are non dangerous.

• Couples transfer an average of 9 milligrams of water, 0.7 milligrams of protein, 0.18 milligrams of organic matter, 0.71 milligrams of fat, and 0.45 milligrams of salt in an open mouth kiss.

Oh Brother!

My brother reminded me today that his birthday is coming up. (April 24th) He will be 16 years old. 16 going on 30 but that's just my opinion. He thought that I may want a list of things he would be interested in getting for his birthday. He wants to make shopping easier for me, yeah right. His big ticket item is a car, well, hum... talk to mom and dad about that because it isn't coming from me. The rest of his list consisted of clothes, shoes (specifically a pair of Adidas's he has his eye on and a pair of converse), an itunes gift card (but an itunes account would be even better) and of course the gift that always fits: cold hard cash.

Once we got the birthday thing out of the way, we got down to some serious conversation.

Bro: do you think it hurts to get your penis pierced?
Me: I don't have a penis but I am guessing it does, why?
Bro: I'm thinking a diamond might look cool but what about pain and infection?
Me: ewww an infected penis would be bad.
Bro: yeah plus I hate needles. Do you think it's true that girls have a g-spot?
me: why, are you looking for one?
Bro: (laughing) just wondering. Did you read about the guy whose muscles blew up because of steroids?
Me: nope, where did you read that? stay away from steroids btw.
Bro: I saw it in a video. I'm working on my abs and looking caliente!
Me: prove it, I wanna see.
Bro: I don't take my shirt off for just anyone, there has to be a reason.
Me: shut up.
Bro: are you going to buy me something expensive for my birthday?
Me: Yeah a book that tells you about g-spots, steroids and penis piercings.
Bro: can't you just buy me new sneakers?
Me: I love you
Bro: what's not to love.

Turning 16 could be interesting.