And then. . .

When I write I don't think about anything else aside from where my story is going. Where will it take me? Do I like where it's going? Does it like where I'm taking it? It's not until much later and many edited drafts past the original that I think about reading it aloud. Last, night I read two pieces I'd never read aloud before. "La Trenza" which I'm excited is about to be published in the latest edition of Cream City Review and "Dimming Lights" which is a small heavy piece I used to divide my memoir into sections of before and after my grandmother Ita's, death. Last night, I read them in front of an author who I read when first figuring out how to write my own work, Rigoberto González. I read his memoir Butterfly Boy: Memoirs of a Chicano Butterfly amongst others when I was still undecided on what shape my book was going to take. It was interesting because I felt as if I knew him, already had a relationship with him, and I wanted to ...

In El Paso, the month of October means fall is here. It seems almost as if from the first of the month the city starts to shake off the summer heat. The snake waves of heat dissipate instead of lingering and multiplying. I love this time of the year because it means winter is coming. And for me, winter means scarves and boots, coats and hats, it means fashion and not burning up with flushed cheeks while simply walking across campus. It means cold nights tucked under heavy blankets, costumes, and holidays with family. Most people complain about the cold in El Paso, because well, it's filled with desert rats that need a sweater when it's 75, but for me it's my favorite time. It feels as if because of the cold we all bundle up and somehow end up closer. Some of us more fashionably than others.

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...

In my prior life, when much of my time was spent in a food court, I used to frequently eat lunch alone. Although, many times I ate lunch with my "work friends," sometimes I just wanted to eat alone, mostly because I needed silence. Towards the end of that life I found I needed a lot of silence. It's hard to be silent in a food court, I know, because the mall people stare at all the options unsure of where to eat and ask each other, "What do you want? I think I want Chick-fil-A, or maybe the Chinese place. What about Snappy Salad? Ooooo , or Tin Star? I love their tah-cos. " Teenagers push and shove, giggle while they try to flirt, but still haven't mastered it, some of the boys may never. Mom  mall walkers push strollers with their crying babies, but still continue to hold conversations over the red-faced hollering bald headed beast strapped into the latest edition stroller as others wince and stare. The cacophony of noise intensified as it echoed off t...

Yesterday, I went for a bike ride. It was the early evening, when the sun is still out, but the nighttime sky is already creeping up to wrap us in its cozy dark blanket. I hadn't been on a bike since my childhood, and until yesterday I wasn't quite sure if I could still ride one well. The well is still debatable. I pushed off on the right peddle, swaying from right to left for a bit like a child first learning to walk, but after a few moments I was zooming down my block. I looked straight ahead, the black asphalt wide open to me, ear buds in my ears with a hint of music so I could still hear cars, and relaxed. Then, I wobbled again. For the rest of the bike ride I tried to remember my form to maintain my balance. As I peddled the crunching sound of ashalt accompanied the noises of my ride. I rode around for about 30mins, and in that time the old saying, "It's like riding a bike," came to me. I was on a bike of course I was going to remember it.  I thought abou...

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...

This summer has been hard, bumpy, and filled with a kaleidoscope of emotions: tired, grumpy, angry, embarrassed, shame, self-doubt, happy, confident, relief, loved...when everything seems to be shifting, the world feels like the proverbial earthquake, and you feel like you can't find steady ground, it's important to remember change can't be controlled, forced, hurried, slowed down, it comes when it comes and forcing just makes everything along the way a little harder and a lot less sweet, a plump peach with no flavor. Along the bumpy road it's important to remember: You can't make everyone happy. Sometimes it's hard enough just making yourself happy. Running away means you'll just have to deal with it later. Smiling all the time is tiring; sometimes you just need to be. The people you have in your life, the ones that matter, won't always be there, enjoy them. It's okay to be comfortable, sometimes what we need is comfort, I'm writing thi...