Sometimes, in the melodrama of life, I get caught up on this selfish one way road. Speeding, going 100mph…ummm…wait, that’s kinda not speeding these days. Let me rephrase and exaggerate: Speeding, going 1000 miles an hour with ear plugs and blinders on and on special occasions, blindly. Most of the time, in my attempt to control uncontrollable things, I lose the battle and hay estoy, chinge, chinge, chinge even after I know I’ve lost. The thing is that I am totally consciously aware of this and have continued, over the years, to fight useless battles. Why? Lets see? Ummm….Pendeja!?! My parents, as well as every person that has known me in an intimate way have always muttered, “Let it go, Lili.” Letting go is hard for one who is emotional. I attach emotion to inanimate objects, to people, to situations in life, and often its even hard for me to drop a argument when I know what that person is doing is wrong…. or even as simple as throwing something away. You know, because I’m a “fix it” girl. This has often done more harm than good.
So, in my attempt to become a better person, let go of negative emotions, declutter and simplifying my life, I have taken the task of embracing all aspects of “letting go”. Continue reading
So I love my papi (and my mami as well but this story is about my dad) and usually when something goes wrong I call him and he comes to save the day. For example, when I left my keys in the car because I had gone to HEB and got chicken juice on my hand. My OCD was on full force mode so I forgot to grab them when I got out of the car or that time I called at 4am drunk cuz I heard baby mice in my closet. He came over half asleep with my mom’s flip flops on because I was freaking out that I had baby field mice in my closet….but save those stories for another day…. Anyways, keep in mind that my dad, a short and extremely overprotective Mexican man, raised 6 beautiful girls and after about 40 years of fatherhood, one may say, would drive any father insane. Today, I called him because I suspected my propane tank was leaking. Since I’m a “DIY” girl, I grabbed my cute little squirty bottle with soap, put on my big girl panties, because I’m deathly scared of “Lola la grandota”. My propane tank is a monstra! SO, there I go to check her out for myself. I thought I had everything under control until Continue reading
So, my coworker, Connie, has a son that works at Panda Express….Aye, Dios mio….this began my passionate love affair with Panda Express….I would anxiously wait for the days that she would bring me left overs. A lil bit of this, a lil bit of that, fried rice, crab rangoons. Oh, how I rejoiced when we would have crab rangoon days. I’d wake up and my first thoughts were of Pandie. Would I see you today? Would I smell that delicious aroma of orange chicken. Oh, it was an obsessive love. How I craved it…thoughts of it filled my mind and all I could say was “Aye, Que Rico“. And Oh, I would feel sad when Connie would tell me she forgot the Panda left overs at home. I knew she was conspiring against me and Panda Express. It was a perfect perfect love. It loved me and I loved their honey walnut shrimp. Everything was perfect until I tried wearing a pair of skinny jeans. Unfortunately,my pants started getting tight, and my boobs bigger ( but I sure am not complaining about that). I was sooooooo torn!!! Oh, how I wept at night because my Pandie, the very thing that made me happy, was giving me heart burn. I bargained, thought about ways to be sneaky, I begged Diosito to give my tummy the strength it needed to not get gassy. “I can buy a case of tums at SAMs.”, I thought. My boobs are bigger but maybe if I rub crisco on my pansa I can squeeze into the size negative zero that I am. There was no solution. I had to walk away. My days were gloomy and how I missed Connie’s surprise Panda lunch. I thought I wouldn’t survive with out my Panda but I did….I survived and dropped the 10 pounds I gained. It was a hard recovery without Pandie…… UNTIL TODAY!! Connie told me that they were giving a free serving of a new entree. One last sneaky sneaky won’t hurt. I thought about it until the only solution was to starve myself all day to eat a heavy calorie meal. Needless to say, I guess today is my cheat day. Oh, how I missed you Crab Rangoon… I left with a full meal, a soda, and a big smile on my face because I got a discount!!! So one last sneaky sneaky didn’t hurt…. Unless Connie’s son tells her I walked out of there with a full meal. Eek! I’ll be in trouble with my fake mama.