And then. . .

Last week a friend's sister died suddenly. He was flying home the next day to say good-bye. His good-bye's were instead said to us sitting on a balcony with fall winds creeping all around. His words although beautiful did not warm us, but only made us feel his cold loss as if we too had lost a sister that night. "Somos familia. Somos un circulo," he said gesturing with his Modelo. We nodded as the somber night shifted, and we laughed as if nothing had happened. Only in moments did we remember. When there was a lull and someone quickly moved to break the silence. His girlfriend, sat stoically, face smooth as she took drags off her cigarette, but her eyes gave her heart away. The next day one of the circle posted this on Facebook: " Ayer fue un día muy triste y muy dulce. Partió de este mundo la hermana de alguien a quien mucho amamos. Entonces hicimos lo que se debe hacer en esos momentos, los seis que somos nos sentamos a charlar, reír, llorar, brindar p...

In a week where everything has gone up and down and all around. I want to pause a la Woody Allen and tell you, "This has been a very odd week, indeed." "What are you talking about? What happened?" asked the reader.  I had a visit from my prior life in the shape of an ex-regional manager now friend. I loved talking and seeing my now friend, but moments of surreal flashbacks of my prior life popped in and out. I heard the language I used to speaking fall from her lips, "Yes, we made the day with a 12% increase," only now it sounded foreign. For many years before I moved back to El Paso, my Spanish slowly shrunk down into a tiny space that almost didn't exist because of lack of use. I understood when people spoke in Spanish but couldn't always communicate with them. I felt the same shrink effects on my business language, the phrases she said, "SIM, LY, Decrease, Increase, Rally, were all familiar, I understood, but I couldn't quite comm...

The things about friends is that, well, it's complicated. Family can drive you crazy, but you can't get rid of them. You can say mean, low, evil things, (as can they) and usually, they'll forgive you, at least after while. When it comes down to it, at least in my case, you fight and love with a passion, because as the saying goes, blood is thicker than water. With friends, there doesn't seem to be the same weight, I suppose. Because you can get rid of them, you can say mean, low, evil things, and they don't have to forgive you (or you them), and friends break apart, grow, and drift away like icebergs from one another. Although friends are the family you get to pick, sometimes it's best to let them go (or them you), because as in a romantic relationship, in order for it to work you both have to make an effort. I'm blessed with having many great friends in my life, the kind who drink away heartbreaks with you and let you cry till there's no more tear...

Dim lighting and a smokey feel without the smell. The voice of the singer, Carolyn, wraps around me as I stand in the doorway. " Give me one reason to stay here..."  Groups of friends crowded around tables filled with amber glasses and dancing ice. Laughter erupts, and smiles grace the faces of those around me. Chatter overlaps and wraps around and changes and morphs like small waves, moving, with the flow of our chorused voices. " Come together, right now, over me..." We talk, we sing, bursts of laughter at the crescendo of our conversation punctuate our sentences. Small talk, big talk, serious talk, all mingled at one table where new friends, old friends, and family sit together. " " You say one love, one life...."  " What did that mean ?"       " Another mojito ?"      " Pictures! "      "We had a presentation today, last minute."   "I do translations."             " T...

My hair is now blue. Bluish in tint. Blue and black. Black and blue I suppose, but there was not a fight involved. As this transformation was happening my hair guru, yes, hair guru because hair dresser does not suit her, was telling me about her sister. Her sister is shy and introverted, but the one time I met her, I wouldn't have believed it. She had rainbow colored hair at the ends and some bleached blonde spikes that made for a punky little coiffe. "No way!" "Yes dude, and she does this weird thing when she talks to people, rubbing her hands on her thighs, I told her to stop doing that shit, because she looks like something is wrong with her!" I laughed as she imitated what I imagined to be damp palms rubbing against jean clad legs. The hair dryer bulbed around my head and foil tins kept flopping over my right eye.  As with any trip to see Lisa Hairy (a name I gave her) our mouths run a mile a minute. "I think it's important to have a cho...