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La muerte siriki siaca, pegada con chicle y caca.

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“A broken heart is an opportunity”

Lately, my broken heart has come to surface. I’ve tried, over the course of 3 years, to be strong… well, what I presume strong is. In doing so I’ve put out the great fire in my heart.

Being the dramatica that I am, I’ve had many heartbreaks…. Every unrequited crush, every tortilla que se me quemo, every unfairness that has crossed my path, any pain that my loved ones have felt, my cocodrillo tears…that heartache that was felt to the core….I own it…I’ve never denied my heart to throw herself on the floor, cry, and scream….and break…. but also le doy sus coscorones, like my mami would give me, and tell her to get the hell back up…vale mas cabrona!

I’ve told myself over and over that I needed to mend myself back up…aguantate and I mean NOWput your big girl panties, double spanks, a little mascara, some lip gloss and vamonos….get it together.  Crying only in the shower…or in company of someone who was just as broken hearted as me. My poor  little heart keeper is working 24/7, a chingas,  to mend my tears and broken seams and I demanded he build a wall so high that now I can’t even see my heart. I can’t feel her…and no one can see her. Where’s the warmth? The fire?

Sometimes, one just bends and folds and is pulled a little too much causing your heart to tear at the seam, or at its weakest point.  Y sopatelas….your exposed beyond repair.  In my head I picture that little piece of paper in my wallet with all my important information that I’ve been carrying around since…Quen sabe….The other day,  as I took it out to look at it, it tore. A heart, just like those important pieces of paper, photographs, prayers, momentos that have lugged around for years, gets worn out. For many years I blamed myself but as I sit here thinking about how I’ve managed to wear out a little piece of paper, I really feel that its inevitable. Any heart that is mangled around, will tear…break…llora….

This is something that has been marinating in my head for the past few weeks. I’m not going to hid the fact that my heart has been broken beyond my understanding, many times…or that I am now starting to realize that maybe I shouldn’t of built the Berlin wall around it but I just had this feeling in my gut that THIS wasn’t the way. I want my flame back, I don’t want those walls around my heart anymore.

So, as I always do, I asked Diosito and the Angelitos to guide me.  My prayers were answered in the form of a youtube video, I’m sure my nephews were messing with youtube and somehow stumbled across this video…but it was just what I needed… Coincidence? Or…When did God  become media savvy? LOL

I sometimes think I’m crazy, and I really don’t care if I am or not…lol…because I’m on my own path, learning lessons, and I know that Diosito is guiding me. He knows that I, as everyone else,  needs rocks thrown at us.  I can’t understand subtleties.  After hearing this video, it was clear to me that what I have done to my heart was hurting her more than helping. I’ve been going about it the wrong way. What I perceived to be strong, wasn’t. Being strong is embracing that broken heart….” A broken heart is an opportunity….”

‘It’s not that I’m still broken hearted, that’s not what ails me. I hope to embrace all my lessons,  love, life, and the idea of opening up my heart again to love…. to the possiblity of finding love or another broken heart.

The video is kinda lengthy… and new to me…but it served it purpose. So I’m leaving it at that…taking what I needed from it…leaving what I didn’t need….an opportunity to learn and heal…

 

 

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I, Pancho Lopez, find myself on this deserted island.

Mi barca, broken down after roughing the insolent storms of mid morning.

Who is that creature, con polos de ellote, staring at me?

 

Dorćol Distilling Company and Los Nahuatlatos

A beautiful night spent in company of 2 of my beautiful sisters.

Awesome atmosphere, yummy drinks, and music fusion.

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Someone I love told me to do what makes me happy.

Letting my creativity flow like a river’s rushing waters….

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My abuelita a get well card.

When she saw it she said it reminded her of the crafts she use to decorate her home with when she was young.

I have my abuelita’s essence.

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My wella is out for a catscan.

Im alone.

Just the beeps coming from the machines….

 a sad sigh from a passing nurse….

and the painful sobs from a woman in the other room crying for her ama.

I’m not crazy, just dramatic

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So, I wasn’t planning on sharing this with the world but pa que chingados do I have a blog for if I’m going to be hiding who I really am. I’ve always been very vocal and upfront about my love affair with food…. Mostly, I can care less about what people think about me. It is what I think about myself that hurts me and so a mixture of issues have developed over the past few…well…all my life…

A few weeks ago I had a break down at the doctor’s office. I usually see a very lovely PA who is heaven sent. Como chinga a la chingada when I go but that’s exactly what I need. Someone  who’s straight forward and will give me a little pujoncito when I’m being stubborn. Well, they accidentally scheduled me in with a new pcp. He’s new, he’s young, he’s drop dead gorgeous, he’s fit…a little to short for my liking… Well, again, like always my weight and food issues were brought up and he said, “Well instead of eating a whole pint of ice cream why don’t you have one cookie.” Umm…#1 You look starved, I want to feed you some posole or chiles rellenos. #2 Who only eats 1 cookie? I sure the hell don’t and as I thought this I stopped listening to his blah blah because I was envisioning oreos…mmmm…Anyways, long story short…..I cried my eyes out because all I want to do is eat.  You can’t deny a foodie food. I saw that judgmental  look on his eyes. In the words of Mama Ru(paul) “Only Judy can judge.”

I can totally get that some people don’t understand what goes on in my head because most of the time I sure don’t know what the hell goes on…LOL but its so hard for people that haven’t had weight problems to be accepting to the idea that its hard to say no. With my gall bladder being taken out and being sensitive to foods that I love… Olga la gorda has reared her ugly face again.  I asked if he would send me to a nutritionist and instead suggested a psychologist and a little sprinkle of anti anxiety meds. Being that I live inside a bubble and will not take anything in fear that it will hurt me, I said no, but I agreed to see a psychologist.

So, today I officially sat on my first couch. I didn’t like it…so I asked if I can sit on the chair. She sat on the couch instead…LOL. Mostly this initial session consisted of me answering questions and then giving a speech on why and then wanting to retract everything because it made me sound crazy. “I mean, I am, but I’m not. I’m just over dramatic” was my closing statement….lol. Life is not black and white….I live in the gray!!

She explained that a lot of the things we carry are like that scene from The Incredibles where Mr. Incredible is  running from the black tar blobs that are being shot at him. Once something, words, a situation, hardships, or a trauma are being thrown at you…they sometimes stick to you. They grow and grow and grow and eventually they consume you.  I thought about long and hard on the way home and decided that I would release those tar blobs chingaderas that have been attaching and growing on me.

I know that I’ve been in much darker places in life. I know what I am and what I am not. I know that I am thankful for all the hardships because they are the reason I am stronger..I know that I have come a long way but…. Sometimes you just need help and that is where I’m standing now…stuck…not letting myself move forward because I’ve attached significant meaning to these toxic tar blobs.   When you actually get the time to sit down, calm your body, and look yourself in the mirror, you don’t see who you have imagined all this time.  But, you will continue to be stuck if you don’t reach out for help. Its hard, being stubborn and all, but you make a choice. I’m choosing to put my big girl panties on y pos nimodo…like my papi said the other day… “Y que se vaya a la chingada madre…para que batallan.” Sometimes you just need to let it go.

Now is the best time to let go. I’ve seen a lot of people moving towards a healthy way of life and I have this feeling of hope. We all get through the muck one step at a time.

 

 

 

 

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If you give a Lili a cherry limeade shes going to ask for mozzarella sticks.

When you give her mozzarella sticks, she’ll probably ask you for a foot long chili cheese coney….

*If you give a mouse a cookie was one of my favorite books growing up.