without

while catching up on cold case reruns i made these:

almost one hundred and twenty.

i'll use them for cards and hair pins.

and for decorations.

but i love the way they look on this table.

flowers without stems.

vibrant without water or sunshine.

alive.

real grown up

a while back i turned in applications at various private schools, intending to land a job in the after school/childcare department.

i got a call this morning.

and while it might be a close call in getting to work on time

due to my school hours.

maybe they will make slight adjustments?

this is my first interview in a very long time.

very long time meaning... about three years.

what do i wear?

is there such a thing as being too early?

what do i say?

where's my pocket thesaurus and notepad of clever, endearing phrases?

sooo...

interview: landed.

job: not landed (yet).

eeks. i'm turning into real grown up.

only way to go there

"you have an idea of what the new country looks like. still, you are very much at home, although not truly at peace, in the old country. you know the ways of the old country, its joys and pains, its happy and sad moments. you have spent most of your days there. even though you know that you have not found there what your heart most desires, you remain quite attatched to it. it has become part of your very bones.

now you have come to realize that you must leave it and enter the new country, where your Beloved dwells. you know that what helped and guided you in the old country no longer works, but what else do you go by? you are being asked to trust that you will find what you need in the new country. that requires the death of what has become so precious to you: influence, success, yes, even affection and praise.

trust is so hard, since you have nothing to fall back on. still, trust is what is essential. the new country is where you are called to go, and the only way to go there is naked and vulnerable.

it seems that you keep crossing and recrossing the border. for a while you experience a real joy in the new country. but then you feel afraid and start longing again for all you left behind, so you go back to the old country. to your dismay, you discover that the old country has lost its charm. risk a few more steps into the new country, trusting that each time you enter it, you will feel more comfortable and be able to stay longer."

henri j.m. nouwen

mexican

yesterday i was driving to book club* and my windows were distractingly dirty. as i pulled onto the street i realized that an accident would soon take place if i did not clean them. on go my windsheild wipers. the water and soap mixture sprays out.... on the passengers side. the squirter that covers my field of vision was evidently clogged. needless to say jenny could see the road oh so clearly. i, on the other hand, squinted for twenty five minutes through thick streaks and a strong glare.

book club lasted an hour and a half.

we are about to finish:

the particular sadness of lemon cake by aimee bender

before we drove home, i realized that my eyes would have to battle the red glare from brakelights as the sun had rest it's head below the horizon. so i proceeded to take my almost finished water bottle and pour its remaining contents on my side of the windshield. hurried in the car and turned on the windshield wipers. for some reason, this made me feel extremely mexican. it's something my mother would have done. except she would have wiped it down with a napkin or a tissue.

i love her.

and i love that i've inherited her mexican tendencies.

now i just need to master her enchiladas

tamales

and other finger-licking good dishes.

*i haven't mentioned this yet. tomorrow, i promise.

more often.

today i wore no makeup*.

and did not feel an iota less than beautiful for one single moment.

i think i will do this more often.

because i am beautiful.

with no need for enhancement via CoverGirl or MAC.

*this excludes everything EXCEPT chapstick and a quick curl of the eyelashes since mine are pin straight.

the debris.

the past hour i saw the deterioration of a relationship between my mother and my sister.

i saw the past repeat itself.

angry words like bulldozers in shoddy buildings.

ground zero in my living room.

the debris is suffocating.

and i saw children who were afraid.

and i saw a mother who was afraid.

and i, too, felt afraid.

i'll embrace the flame

He dares to be more intimate with myself than I do. searching out the lowest parts. desiring truth in the innermost parts. familiar with all my faults and failings. He is giving me what i have asked for. cried for. to know Him. to be like Him. to dwell with Him in the beauty of His holiness. to be holy as He is holy. to talk with Him face to face like a friend.

He longs to lead me in paths of righteousness for His names sake. and all idols must be destroyed, must be cast into His loving gentle hands. and His fiery gaze that promises sustenance will have to be enough. i won't be afraid, i'll embrace the flame. though it may sting. and reduce. it is refining. gold will not be the name of a precious element, but a description of the state of my heart. pure. without extraneous matter. dross burned up with fire. fear burned up with love.

intimacy requires sacrifice.

to cultivate relationship with the Holy One of Israel i must desert the time and affections i give so easily and blindly to others.

and more than sacrifice, obedience.

if you love me, you will obey my commands.

john 14:15

not despising His instruction or authority.

not disregarding His statutes. but delighting in His life-giving, life-sustaining word. assured that correction and discipline are an overflow of the Father's love. convinced that the law of His love is grace and mercy and justice.

His courts are lovely. His dwelling place is majestic.

my home, the secret place, the altar of sacrifice.

obedience sweetened by love for the Beautiful One.

feverish

the stones leading to my front door aren't round.

they are slabs of speckled concrete. square. plain. light grey.

they aren't dainty. or whimsical.

not like the stones that lead to secret gardens or hideaways where rebellious sophisticates rendezvous.

they are upfront and don't lie about how hard they are. or how people who drag their feet end up with stubbed toes.

but their hardness has welcomed me since the third grade.

this morning i saw a lizard with cracked skin scrambling across the third stone.

spry with anxiety. feverish. urgent.

and around it's back was an interminable string - thin, sheer, taut- attatched to the sun.

summer riding high like a kite.

the prison between the binding

reading time was his least favorite time of day. the teacher's pencil skirt zipped so tight, seemed to be like mummys wrappings, well-fitted grave clothes.

shhh. no talking.

the words did not make sense unless they were spoken. they longed to be spoken.

but for forty minutes each school day, he flipped the pages without understanding.

the ships would not leave the dock.

the adventurers added locks to their doors.

bluejays sang and nobody heard them.

children were ignored like shriveled prunes that nobody likes.

forty minutes of pretending.

then on to history - when the sea tasted like salty tea.

compliments of incensed colonists.

but his voice was like magic and justice. it liberated words, black with languish. and ships. and adventurers. it gave bluejays and children the freedom that only an attentive listener could. an earthquake of sound emancipated the captives in the prison between the binding.

their life was on his lips:

endless oceans and mountain ranges and skies and jungle gyms.

snowflakes in july

last night i was bored...

and i found construction paper.

so i began to cut.

ready to pull open....

peek.a.boo!

and made five more.

everyone knows that snowflakes in july are the perfect cure for boredom.

i don't know what to do with them yet.

so they are going in a crate with all of my crafts who have

no permanent home.

left to wait until i determine a place that is worthy of their stay.

, of course.

the past month or so has included weddings and graduations.

here are some pictures and captions.

and introductions, of course.

this is my nephew. to the right is him at the beginning of sixth grade.

to the left is him now - an almost junior higher. (eeks!)

this is my mom. and she's my favorite. strong and equally silly.

this is brother number two (aka bert) and his son. and his girlfriend jen.

my nephew was so excited that day. ;)

nathan making rocks talk. pssst. it only works if you close your eyes.

mikey is a bonafide rockstar. just saying.

the cousins. primary colors are my favorite in theory,

because i would never have the audacity to decorate with such vibrancy.

evidently gracie and i are in agreement about primary colors.

brother and me. oldest and youngest. fifteen years difference ain't no thang.

and this is my familia. from left to right: jon and gracie, my dearest sister and brother-in-law who just moved; my mom and dad, i used to wear those shades when i was little - ray bands never get old; brother number one (aka adi), he's pretty sweet; my cousin the bride and her new hub!; bert, also pretty sweet; me; my niece, she's only sixteen and wearing heels for the first time, my heels to be specific, i refuse to let her grow up anymore; my sister patty, never without rocking heels and red lipstick, and my brother's girlfriend jen.

no little ones in this one - they are running around on the golfcourse.

patty is so slick. did i not say mikey was a rockstar?

oh, there are the little ones.

that's it folks.

thanks for bearing with me.

and for putting up with sideways pictures.

happy monday!

dream light

today i am thankful for

waking up to wistful whistling of birds

rather than the steely jackhammering of construction workers.

the translucence of my curtains

and the dream light that escapes through them.

the satisfactory state between sleep and awake,

it's like a perfectly warm bath.

icy smoothies with pinapples from the philippines,

pomegranates from the middle east,

and strawberries from the central coast of the

red, white, and blue.

the bigness of the universe

and the tinyness of me.

the noon sun has yet to rise.

so many more things to be thankful for, to be thankful in.

fruit with my fruit

last week i ran three times.

(success!)

my mom proceeded to purchase mcdonalds for dinner.
my dinner the next night? del taco.
and although i attempted to start and end the day with eating fruit it kind of went downhill from there.
at night my strawberries were accompanied with about 800 calories of nutella.

(200 calories per tbsp, really?)

but it's so misty outside this morning. (seriously July, is this all you have to offer me? you are acting awfully like November as of late. it's not that i don't like November, it's just that she's so cold and bitter sometimes. please don't forsake your goodnatured smile and trade it in for cloudy thinking and the thick fog of uncertainty.) and they are doing major construction on my street. i woke up at eight. promise! so instead of running i stretched and did some crunches. even though stretching felt so great i could have ended there.

i love fruit smoothies. not shakes because the dairy just feels so heavy in my stomach. so this morning i took strawberries, oranges, a small piece of grapefruit and blended it. and what did i have with my fruit smoothie? a banana of course!

what's better than starting off the morning having fruit with my fruit?

and does anybody remember this hey arnold episode?

i miss well formulated cartoons. nickelodeon hit it's peak in the early 1990's, obviously.

not being around

my sister gracie and her husband are moving away tomorrow.

nine hours north.

my highschool graduation.

two years ago.

this past christmas.

we love to be silly.

today is their "sending away" party and we stayed up late last night decorating and woke up early this morning to finish up. an hour from now family and friends will be pulling up. and laughter will echo throughout the hallways. there will be tears no doubt.

but new beginnings are always so fun.

i love them so.

[pictures will be up soon.

and i mean a lot.]

i can't imagine my sister not being around.

but today she is here.

insecurities

sometimes my insecurities keep me from making friends.

true story.

hopscotch

afternoons in the park with my two nephews:

exquisite.

chalk.

jungle gym.

woodchips.

shade for days.

faulty kite.

making friends with other seven year olds.

hopscotch.

the "invisible wind shaking the palm trees."

swings.

pretend treasure hunts.

(raging rivers and scary snakes included).

my oldest* nephew, mikey, and i resolved to write music on the sidewalks of the park next week with chalk. what a wonderful idea! prepare yourself to be blown away because it shall be documented.

*oldest meaning twelve. eight years younger, but just like a brother.

did i mention he just finished elementary school?

ay yi yi. (mexican roots) i can't imagine this little one in middle school.

the conclusion

three weeks ago my heart beat vehemently as i did twenty minutes of cardio.

any attempt at physical activity since then has been quickly averted.

however, this past friday i ran with two friends:

rudy (from here on out referred to as el segundo) and josh (no nickname, yet).

the mission:

two miles.

run one. walk the other.

don't forget to stretch.

the result:

being sore for three days straight.

a headache during the run.

and after the run.

did i mention being sore?

the conclusion:

i am out of shape.

big time.

so i need to move more. my niece refuses to be my running partner. i've accepted it. moved on. and suppose running alone is the right thing to do for now.

here are my plans:

run three days a week. two miles each time until i can completely run both. then we'll up it?

weights for my arms. five pounders please? some mini workout sessions from exercise tv. don't judge. and sit ups/crunches. the usual summer rush to get toned for that two piece. hah.

actually, two piece aside, the hard work it takes to make sure i treat my body right and stay healthy.

because this is far more important than that bikini.

almost: a story of a room in transition

my room is almost done.

a week ago i spent about five hours painting a floral-esque design on my wall. of course if it were not for my friend michael it would have not been done in five hours. maybe fifteen. but never five. oh! and after some purusing about ikea with the mother i decided on curtains which inspired said floral-esque design. and who can resist ikea's organizational boxes that make the messiest young lady seem put together? not i. especially when they provide the opportunity to label them.

take a peek:

the curtains. and 99 cent mustard colored ribbon. a steal.

insert thrift store chair (yet to be found) in empty space.

scale back a few feet. standing on my bed.

blank wall....

closeups

::drumroll::

the whole thing.

and some.

i.e. branches from behind my bed and vines from my ceiling.

oh!

and look at this two dollar frame. spray painted of course.

artistic, eh?

:P

things yet to be purchased:

bedding.

reading chair.

rug.

adieu!

stores that are notorious

i do love the endless possibilities for creativity when it comes to dressing oneself.

but i have not the money to indulge at any store, no matter how economical it may be.

yet, i find myself spending far too much money at stores that are notorious for emptying the money one has on them (and the money one wishes they had on them).

are they wonderfully delicious finds?

yes.

will i wear these pieces out like my only pair of black flats?

yes.

was it wise of me to buy these items?

yes. i mean no.

*slaps self on hand*

so i make a pact with myself and with you, dear blog:

i will not purchase any clothing items (accessories and shoes included)

until september.

i do need a white purse. and to fix the strap on my black one.

but corporate world who tells me i need these clothes to be someone?

i bid you farewell.

because my pocketbook cannot take another hit.

and what i wear, regardless the fantastic fit or precocious pattern, does not define me.

just saying.

unabashedly severed

it seems i have a fetish with words beginning with "u" that until now has gone undetected.

because all of my posts thus far for the month of june - the action packed three - have begun with the much loved "u."

you see, the "u"'s have ultimately usurped prospective blog titles from their unassuming counterparts, they have upstaged twenty five others and ushered in a new reign, they have unabashedly severed the umbilical cord of the immature and defenseless.

but with utmost sincerity they acknowledge their unacceptabe behavior and insatiable desire for power.

they will step down abdicating both throne and short-lived fame.

it is big of them to do that, you know. let others have their chance.

that is precisely why i love them so.

until we meet again, fair "u."

p.s.

i do love to personify anything and everything.

bad habit? perhaps. entertaining? slightly. :)

unsorted socks

dear children whose toes i will play "this little piggy..." with,

today i washed all of my clothes. and there wasn't one thing left in the dirty hamper! you probably don't believe me because normally i have dirty clothes in the hamper and on my floor. but i promise. i washed dark clothes. light clothes. white clothes. and even some blankets (that were quickly tucked away in the lovely linda).

i forgot to mention that i washed all the socks i could find.

there are six pairs of feet in this household.

enough said.

i decided that you will wear different brand socks than your sister(s) or brother(s). or i will mark whos are who with a permanent marker. because i still have unsorted socks in a bag. socks that have no match. patterned socks. colored socks. and far too many white socks. socks that are too small. or socks i've had for years. what do you do with old socks? do you give them away? throw them away? i do hope i've figured this out by now. but these are the inconsequential questions of a twenty year old. one day i will be full grown.

i just wrote to tell you that everything about you

(even the socks that you slip on)

is significant.

and aside from the cheesiness between each syllable, please do remember.

sincerely,

a young girl who is becoming cleaner each day for herself

unrecognizable

let us stop squinting our eyes and licking our pursed lips.

we are prostituting ourselves to the dead things.

those that do not speak. or hear. those that are dust.

comprised of flakes, miniscule particles of malicious mites.

blown off the windowsill by our anxious laughter.

there is no peace in this.

we have become unrecognizable. the truth is not in us.

prisoners to our illusory freedom.

with lashes curled we attempt to lure the affection of others.

adoration was never ours. we were loved poorly.

and rejection has twisted us out of alignment ever since.

but the breath of Love has been on our eyelids all along.

since the booming voice called out to the brooding darkness,

Love has been summoning us home.

utmost importance

before spring came and the sun conquered its bashfullness* i bought a new umbrella. the see through kind that look like bubble ufos.

exhibit a

my favorite part is that while my shoulders, labtop, purse, and face are perfectly protected, they are not veiled by my umbrella. this is beneficial for two reasons:

1. i can see where i am going. this is very important because i already tend to trip over myself as it is. walking is tricky sometimes.

2. i can smile at passerbys through my umbrella. this is of utmost importance.

enter umbrella metaphor:

they are particularly useful when it begins to sprinkle and you've done your hair just right. or you are holding prized possessions. but when it comes to His grace - His grace that is everywhere - they must be folded and put away lest we want to limit His grace from soaking our lives and heart. yes, our umbrellas will effectively keep His showers of goodness shut out. they will enable us to keep our distance from Him. but sometimes the brave (and wet) thing to do is to surrender to the refreshing rains of His grace. and become saturated, not withholding any part with our manmade mechnisms that protect our wounds and nurse our false selves.

this is of utmost importance.

* as of late june has been teasing the sun for its brightness saying things like "you are too yellow" or "no one appreciates your warmth." but with some coaxing i'm sure she will come out from behind her concrete walls.