Friday, December 24, 2010

Please Pray

I never thought I'd be in this situation. Especially on Christmas Eve. I don't know why I felt like my family, just wouldn't be here. But we're here. My Dad is in the hospital. The same hospital where I work part-time. In the ICU. And I have this horrible feeling, in the pit of my stomach. I'm just praying. Because I don't really know what else to do.

Just a little background here. My Dad has epilepsy. He hasn't had a series of seizures in a while. In over a year? At least over a year. I'm thinking, that it's been longer. But yesterday, he had 5! People...5! That hasn't happened in forever. As in, longer than I've been alive. That's at least 27 years. Yesterday, my Dad had 3 during the day. Then 1, right before we tried to get him to go to bed, for the night. During that 1, he hit his head on the tile floor. There was blood. And his lips were turning blue. He was really sturggling to breathe.

I just knew that this wasn't the "normal" type of seizures that he has. Something was very different. Very different. The actual seizing wasn't the same. And he was so incredibly mean and irritable all day long. Not the norm here. So when he hit his head, and was struggling, I called 911.

Usually, my Mom and I are able to take care of him. We know what to do. And as long as we can get him to rest and take his medication, in a few days, he's back to normal. But this was different. I knew he'd be upset that I called the ambulance, but it was necessary. Completely necessary.

So I stood in the rain. In the middle of the street. In my PJs, and my Mom's slippers, waiting for the ambulance. My Mom taking care of my Dad. Making sure that he was breathing. It was crazy to see my Dad being loaded onto an ambulance. And later in the ER. Where he had yet another seizure.

Through it all, I had to be the strong one. My Mom, I know that she was scared as heck. As was I. I was able to call my oldest brother. And I told him, it was up to him to call anyone else. I just needed to be with my Dad.

Last night was spent watching my Dad. He underwent a number of tests. And I'm so relieved that the doctors let me go with him. I was able to keep him calm. And thankfully, nothing horrible was wrong. We're still trying to figure out what happened. What caused this last series of seizures.

Sometime around 1AM, my Dad was moved into the ICU. We had to wait about an hour in the waiting room. That was so the doctors could evaluate and monitor my Dad. My Dad is still struggling to breath. And at this point, the main concern is pneumonia. My Mom and I spent the night with him in his room. My Mom is sleeping. And I'm relieved. I have a feeling, this is going to be a long haul. And we need to stay together. It's the only way we're going to make it through this.

I know that I need to call some people. Like my Auntie and Uncle. And some family friends. As far as relatives, I'm leaving that up to my brother. He needs to help out here. And our family is just too big, for me to track them all down. Oh, and it doesn't help that I have no one's phone number. I need to get on that.

So I know that you are all busy, but please keep my Dad in your prayers. I know that this is the holiday season and that there is so much going on. But my Dad really does need your thoughts and prayers. If you are someone that we know in "real life," please send me an e-mail or call me. I'll let you know where we are. But whatever you do, please keep my Dad in your prayers. We really do need it. ♥

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Last Night

Do you remember my post from yesterday? When I was telling you how awesome my God is? Well, he didn't fail me. Yesterday, I was having a pretty crappy day. Trying to make it a good one. Trying really hard. I want so badly for things to go right.

This meant opting out of lunch. One, to avoid Dr. B. And two, well that financial stress again. So I sat in one of the meeting rooms and ate my banana, orange, and apple. Don't tell the hotel. I took them. I didn't have time to eat them in the morning, before we left the hotel. So I took them with me. And folks, that was a good plan!

I was working on a Counseling paper. It was super quiet and I was hard at work. Then that familiar ding of an IM. I immediately recognized the screen name. Do you remember me telling you about a certain Cowboy who had a birthday? The same Cowboy that likes to call my work phone and leave me sweet messages. Like him singing my favorite country songs. :)

Oh heaven. It just makes me smile thinking about him. Yes! Well, he got on the computer during his lunch break. To check his e-mail. And he saw me signed on too. We had a quick chat. And I happened to mention that I was "in town," teaching some classes. Which I got an immediate response, "Want to go to dinner tonight? ;-)" So we made plans.

After work, Dr. D and I made the 1 hour trip back to the town, where we are staying. Now that I think of it, that was crazy! Being that the Cowboy lives where I was working. But that's what we did. I changed into more comfy clothes. And waited. Mr. Cowboy met me and we went to dinner.

We had so much fun! Was it a date? Um, I'm not sure. Seriously, I'm not sure. But we had a great time! We found this cute little restaurant. I swear, I've been here at least 20 times. I've never seen this place. It was quiet, definitely off the "Beaten Path." The food was so yummy too! We ended up sharing 2 plates. Because there was so much food, we didn't know what to order. :)

And we talked about so many things. Just sat and talked. It was everything that my soul needed. Cowboy had me laughing. I laughed so hard, I cried. We talked about being "on our own." And how it was a good change. Even if our families are hundreds of miles away. We talked about the tough stuff. And about fun things that are happening around "the south."

Literally, we stayed in the restaurant until it was closing. That's how great the conversation was. Funny. We've seen each other a few times, in the past, and barely said Hi to each other. But somehow, without anyone else being there, we let our guards down. And it was nice.

Heck, we even played the "Who Are You, When I'm Not Looking" game. It totally reminded me of the song. I LOVE Blake Shelton's version of it. But I couldn't find a video to post here. It was funny to learn all these new things from the Cowboy. Like he enjoys reading the "Classics." He laughed when I told him that I like to set the table, with candles and everything, to have dinner. It's a treat. Because I rarely get to eat a meal at home. He likes to neatly fold his clothes in a pile at the end of the day. And I definitely have to hug something, when I'm drifting off to sleep. Um, he likes to eat cold leftovers for breakfast. I secretly do the same thing. :)

But before he drove back home, I asked him to take me to Wal-Mart. I'm sure, the only place in town that was still open. I bought him some cupcakes and candles. We sat outside and I sang him Happy Birthday. To which, he blushed. It was so cute!

I told you, God works in all sorts of mysterious ways. He sends us people to improve our lives. To teach us something new. To look at life from a different angle. And to enjoy what amazing gifts we have. That little Wal-Mart cupcake and the mini Ben and Jerry's that we split, never tasted better! Why? Because we were just enjoying each other's company. Nothing crazy. Just sitting and talking. Enjoying the beautiful night that God created.

Again, I feel like I can conquer the world. Whatever happens. And this song, it will always remind me of this amazing man. What will come of our friendship? I don't know. Only time can tell that story. But I've learned to be more "Open Minded" about these things. ♥

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

I'm A Child of God

It's been a rough week. It's only Wednesday. It's been a rough month. It's only October 6th. But it's been rough. Dealing with deaths. People that I love so much, who were taken way too early in their lives. There's been financial stress. Family problems plague me daily. There are men that love me more than life itself. But I can't find a way to let them love me. Or a way to love them back. And it's me, trying to make it through the day.

Sometimes when I just want to give up so badly, God sends me some little message. A beautiful Goddaughter who is fighting for her life. A precious little girl who just wants a hug from her Nana. A friend that needs me to listen to them. Because he misses his wife and child that he'll never get to meet. Another friend who is trying to keep it together for her kids. And my best friend who just needs me to listen to her woes.

When I'm feeling really down, God has a way of getting the message to me. Be it an amazing lightening and rainstorm. Or the perfect phone call. I know that I'm loved. I know at the end of the day, I have friends who would risk their lives for me. That's how much they love me. The way family should love you. The kind of love that I feel is missing from my life.

God is amazing. He's awesome! I know that I talk down to myself. I'm sincerely hard on myself. I expect myself to never stumble, let alone fall. I don't take "No" for an answer. I work myself until I can't go anymore. I take on too many people's problems. And I want to fix them all. But I'm human. I'm one person. And even I can only do so much.

"But to all who have received him, those who believe in his name, he has given the right to become God’s children." ~John 1:12

I'm a Child of God. A God that loves me. He never falters, never fails. He accepts and loves me just the way I am. He loves me completely and without judging. Even with my faults. My God loves me, because I'm me. The only one out there that is like me. I'm strong to a fault. And when I hurt, it goes right to my core. My God loves me because of all these things. I'm unique. Created by him, and him alone. I'm a Child of His.

As I type this, I'm crying. The tears are overwhelming me. Because I know this to be the truth. My God will always love me. No matter what happens in my life. I can always turn to him. He sends me beautiful things, like flowers, and rainbows. He also sends me so much love. And sometimes, there is pain to work through. No one is perfect. And My God knows that. He still loves me. He knows the burdens I carry with me. And he loves me.

"Success consists of getting up, just one more time than you fall." ~Oliver Goldsmith

No matter how many times I fall, I know my God will love me. He's proven it time and time again. Jesus gave his life for you and me. For our sins and our failures. No matter what, they are here for us. In our darkest days, we're never alone. I know this. I know this personally.

I've been sent amazing people in my life. People who have filled HUGE voids in my life. Who have shaped the woman that I am today. People like Patrick. They never ask for anything at all. But they're always there to catch you when you fall. Amazing little girls like Sarita, who just want to love you. There is a God. I know this. And I'm his Child!

It's been a tough few months. Months that I've questioned certain things in my life. But never have I had to question my faith and religion. But it's been a tough time in my life. Time when I've been unsure of what is coming. But I know I always have my God to turn to. I'm going to live a better life. For him. My obstacles in the road, they're not a "Road Block." Instead, I see them as a "Detour." I will always get up one more time than I fall. Because my God has made it possible.

I woke up this morning. It was so quiet. The air was crisp and clean. A new beginning. As if the rain has washed away all the hurt, pain, and misery. I look at today as a new beginning. I might have to change my "Life Path" a bit. Make some adjustments for what's coming next. But as long as I keep My God close, I will make it out of this darkness.

There is a God. And he loves me. I'm a Child of God. When the world becomes to heavy, he carries me along. Until I'm strong enough to do his work. I believe. My God makes all things possible! ♥

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Crossing a Line

I know that I probably went too far with my Dad today. I know it. But I'm suffocating in my own body. Just trying to make it through the day. Literally, I feel like someone is trying to kill me from inside my body. And today, the fight with my Dad, was the last thing I needed.

Did I cross a line? I think I might have. But this is me. Carrying all of this. Not just what is happening right now, in the here and now. But the stuff from my past. The stuff that I'm working through in my counseling and therapy. This stuff, it would KILL my Dad if he knew. My parents wouldn't be able to deal with these facts. So I don't tell them. I carry them. And the only person that I really ever talked to about it, well he's in heaven now. Patrick left this world with my secrets. The things that weigh so heavily on my life, heart, and soul.

I did tell my Dad that I wished I'd die. Die right there. Because maybe then, I wouldn't be such a burden for him. Did I tell him I wished a semi truck would hit me on the road? Yes. And it was also me that said, maybe some weirdo will kill me in the night, in my hotel room. I said these things. Because it seems like I'm a burden to people. To the people I love. That I only bring misery and stress.

If I died today, no one would have to pay anything. I decided a while back, I would donate my body to science. That way someone would learn something. And my family wouldn't have to worry about the expense of my death. It's all in my Will. Just a way for me to deal with it. I have no bills, beyond school. So it wouldn't be a financial burden. The only kind that really bothers my Dad.

My brother hates the fact that I go to my parents' house. The other day, he told me why do I have to come so often. Why am I there? Literally, I sleep the night, and I'm gone in the morning, to the next town to work! But it bothers him. In his words, "I ruin his entire week!" What would Dad have to say about that?

I know it bugs my Dad that I haven't graduated. But again, I'm trying. I work hard. I get good grades. But financially, I can't keep up. So I'm a burden, a failure, and just a bundle of stress to him.

So I told my Dad, that I wished God would just take me. Take me anyway that he needed to. Be it in a car accident, a murder, a massive heart attack, in my sleep, a shooting...whatever means necessary. Because I feel like then, I wouldn't have such a negative effect on people's lives. You know what I mean?

Tonight, Dr. B told me just what she thinks of me. In the middle of a meeting with my professors, who I'm supposed to be teaching with this week, she told me I'm nothing but a failure. I'm never going to make it. I'm just causing her stress, and she doesn't need me on her team for the week. There you go.

I disappoint everyone. My professors, my supervisors, my parents, my family, my friends, the people I work with, and Dean C. But I'm only one person. Trying to do it all. Maybe if I died, it would improve the life of others. It's not that I want to die. But it seems the only way to make people happy.

A penny for my thoughts? Maybe then, people would listen to me. Really hear what I'm saying. See that I'm not as strong as I appear. That I'm just human. Holding it together, the best way I know how to. No need for tears. Because I've had a pretty good life. No matter what tomorrow brings, I've done the best that I could. ♥

My Only Constant...Money Problems

It's been 1 month. One very long month. After Labor Day, I found out that Dean C and Dr. S had changed my schedule. They didn't tell me. They just did it. They wanted me to take all these classes and to do my internship. It didn't matter that I couldn't afford it. Or that I was already registered and taking 2 classes. They made the change. And by the time I found out, I couldn't change my schedule back.

No one ever listens to me. It's not that I wanted to just leave. My internship had become my entire life. And living a life as lonely and sad as mine, it was the only light in my life. The only thing that made me smile. It made me happy. I was doing something amazing. Helping innocent babies grow strong. Saving lives. It gave me hope. And to be honest, it was my only reason to get out of bed in the mornings.

But with the growing costs, and less and less gigs, I had no options. Do you want me to tell you the truth? I'm still paying J for money he lent me for the 2010 Spring semester. I know he doesn't mind. In fact, he's told me time after time, to just wait until I graduate. He doesn't need the money. Heck, maybe one day we can break even. I can be his kiddos' doctor. To be honest, I think he's hoping I'll just tell him yes one day...

All of that makes me uncomfortable. So I work. I sign over my checks to him. Every payday, I just sign my check and leave it on his desk. And anytime I have extra money, he gets it. I'm so determined to pay him as soon as possible. I know that my friend loves me. And I know that he would do anything for me. But I don't want him to think, that I use him for money. First and foremost, he's my best friend.

I also don't want to go down the route of Student Loans. Not yet anyway. I know, one day I might have to. Heck, I know when I get to Medical School, I'm going to have to. So I don't want to do it now. But that means, there are sacrifices to be made along the way.

So where am I going with all of this? It's been a tough month. I've tried to figure out ways to pay for school. I've looked at upcoming gigs. And how much money I'm going to make. I've thought about asking J to lend me more money. I've thought about leaving school for a semester. I was offered an amazing job with the Border Patrol. But I couldn't take it. Why? Because as an intern, I'm required to work 100-120 hours a week! And I have to be ready to travel at the drop of a hat. So with the internship, I couldn't work at the Border Patrol.

That leaves me with over $15,000 to pay by December. Half of which is due Friday. I've borrowed $3500 from J for books. Dr. S paid my insurance. Which is another $3,500. You know, he's half at fault for this. My other friend, Dr. M, he paid for my scrubs. I'm still left with almost $8,000 to pay. I've paid over $1,000 in tuition. Thus far, I think that's good. I've done it on my own. And I have a balloon payment due on Friday. $3,500 for my internship. And the difference in my tuition. I have to at least have $1,750 paid.

It's midterm. And I don't know where to turn. I've carried all of this. Just like ever other semester. I've carried this burden, this stress. I didn't want to be here. That's why I was only enrolled in 2 classes. I knew I couldn't do it. I have no support. No one to lean on. No one to talk to. I could handle 2 classes and $800. I didn't even buy the books for those classes. That's how tight money is. But this...$15,000, an internship, and 28 credits...I can't handle this anymore.

This is about the time I'd call Patrick for advice. Just wanting to hear his thoughts. Asking for advice. I'd never ask my parents for help. They have a business to run. It's bad enough that everyone else in the family uses them for money. I'm determined to stand on my own two feet. But I don't have Patrick to call. I have no one to lean on. It's just me. Alone, scared, stressed, worried, and falling apart. No one to talk to. No one to listen to me. To really sit down and listen to what I have to say.

Sunday, Dr. S yelled at me for at least 2 hours. Trying to talk me out of this. Come on. $3,500 isn't going to fall from the sky. I don't have any money! I work and work and work some more. I'm just not making the money. And then, Monday night we talked on the phone. I told him there was no way I could do this...

So this morning, I was supposed to work with him. At the hospital in my hometown. I came last night. My Dad was bugged. Not in any kind of mood to talk. This is why I don't talk to him about these things. Because he gets so mad. So I didn't say anything. I couldn't sleep last night. And after that horrible conversation with Dr. S, I knew it was over. I knew all the things I had worked so hard for and sacrificed for, they're over.

I'm only one person. I can only do so much. I can only carry so much weight. I've been carrying the weight of the world since I was little. Trying to make peace within my family. Taking everything that my siblings have to dish out. Being the peace maker for my parents. Being strong. Holding my family together. Keeping people happy. Being everything that everyone needs and wants me to be.

Today, I was leaving. Heading south. For my 4 hour road trip, to work. And as I was leaving, my Dad knew something was wrong. And as I tried to calming explain it, he blew up. This man, my father, the person I'm supposed to turn to when life is falling apart, he just blew up. He doesn't understand. I doubt that he ever will...

All of a sudden he wants to run in and save the day. Write a check for $200. And that's supposed to fix this. Come on. And he blamed me for it all. Let's be real here. He knew I was having trouble. He knows how much it costs me to go to school. He doesn't ever want to talk. You know, because of my brother. I'm pretty much at midterm. And last week was the first time he offered me money. $250. I'm grateful. But in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't make much difference.

So when he's yelling at me, I just have to sit and think. Does he get it? NO! I'm drowning here. And he's on the sidelines watching. Criticizing everything I'm doing. But he's not willing to walk a day in my shoes. I'm trying. There's not a single thing I can do. I mean, you can go to my house right now. There is nothing in my refrigerator. I have a few cans of food in the cabinet. I don't go shopping. I can't tell you the last time I went out to lunch with friends. I don't do anything.

I sincerely have no money. Besides the $250 my parents gave me last week, which I'm using to make a payment for school this week, I have $25 in my bank account. $25 people! Yes, we go on trips for gigs. I do what I have to. I go to the rehearsals, the performances, and whatever else appearances we have to make. Then I spend the rest of my time, in my room. Because I most certainly can't afford a meal in Las Vegas. Heck, I can't even afford to stop at Taco Bell, when we're playing gigs near home!

It's that bad. And all I can ever get from my Dad is negativity. He doesn't get it. I don't want his money. But I do want some support. Some compassion. For once in my life, I want him to tell me that he loves me and that he's proud of me. That's it.

I look at the things I do in life, I do them because I want him, to be proud of me. That's it. I've given up men that I love, a career in music, and even my happiness. But it's never enough. I fear that even when I become a doctor, it's not going to be enough. How much more do I have to do? I go without eating and sleeping. I'm trying to get myself through school. I just feel like I always come up short with my Dad. That my Mom and me will never matter. No matter what we do. ♥

Monday, September 27, 2010

Music Heals

It's been a little over a week. The pain is still here. My heart still feels shattered, incomplete, and heavy. I cried on Friday. So many sad songs came on the radio. Just as I reached the small town where Patrick grew up.

I cried. Long and hard. Yes, I was that woman, parked on the side of the road. But it felt good afterward. To have let all of that emotion out. To just feel for a moment. No matter how raw, broken, and fragile it made me feel. I needed that. And here are a few of those songs that were playing on the radio...

I'm sure, this was Patrick's way of telling me that we were both going to be OK. He's in a better place. Not suffering any longer. And I, well I'm a better person for knowing Patrick. "Angels Among Us" will always remind me of Patrick. I told him for years and years, he was my "Angel on Earth." Now I know, I truly have an angel watching over my life. And as for the songs, they will always remind me of this amazing man that I got to call "friend." ♥

Sunday, September 26, 2010


Before Father's Day, I requested a song, on a popular Country Show, for my parents. I learned tonight, my request will be answered. I learned this, after I submitted another request. This one for Patrick. Here's what I wrote...

20 years ago, I met an amazing man. Someone that I grew to love like a second father. He was a close friend of our family. And in his own way, 20 years ago, he started to guide my life is such a positive direction.

As a young child, Patrick was an incredible mentor to me. I looked up to him. And I never wanted to disappoint him. Academics were always so important to him. Whenever he felt like I needed a push in the right direction, he'd sit me in his office and we'd talk. I also knew, whenever I needed to talk, he'd always make time for me. Regardless of how important his work titles got, he made the time.

Patrick became more and more important to my life as I got older. I went off to college. And quite often, I would call him for support. If there was a big decision to be made, I always asked his opinion. But our relationship went far past that. He was a dear friend, a mentor, someone I looked up to, and somewhere along the way, he became part of my family.

This man taught me so much about life. In my darkest days, he was there to shine light on my life. To encourage me to get up, and to continue on my way. He always encouraged my dreams and aspirations. Patrick was such a shining star in my life. The hope that I needed when I would give up on myself. And on the brightest of days, he was there to celebrate with me. To show how proud he was that I had accomplished one of my goals.

Sadly, on September 18, 2010, he lost his battle with cancer and pulmonary hypertension. I believe, Patrick was sent into my life, to encourage me and give me hope. To show me that all things are possible, with a little bit of faith and a lot of hard work. I lost a dear friend, but I gained so very much by knowing Patrick. He was the answer to so many of my prayers. Patrick showed me, taught me, and guided me through so much of my life. Now, I have an angel who will forever watch over me.

Can you please play Alabama's "Angels Among Us." I had the opportunity to know an angel. And this song will forever remind me of Dr. J. Patrick Garcia. Even in his death, he is working to make our world a better place.

It's crazy how the world works. But I do hope that this request is picked. What a great man Patrick was. And I hope to spread the word, of what an incredible man Patrick was. One day, I am going to do something big to celebrate his life. And to help his legacy continue. But until that day, I can tell a little bit of his story. ♥

Friday, September 24, 2010

Halloween Crochet

Look at how cute these Halloween projects are! So cute and simple. And something that I really want to make. :)

This cute bear all dressed up.

A decoration for a candle. Just perfect!

These cute finger puppets for your favorite little ones.

A fun ghost.

And this cute spider!

These are all the free crochet patterns, from Free Crochet, from this past week. It gets me really excited! I can't wait to start crocheting. Because that means I'll get to start decorating. And I really do LOVE Halloween! ♥

Thursday, September 23, 2010


That's the number of times I've been proposed to. The honest proposals. The ones that count. Not the ones from fans, as we put on a show.

12. It seems like a HUGE number. There were 6 men. And I'm the "Forever Single Woman." How does this happen? How does a woman like me, get proposed to 12 times? And how am I still single?

Let's start with the conversation that my Mom and I had tonight. We were talking about life things. Things that are burdening my heart and soul. We were talking about life. And family. And out of the blue, she asked me, what I would do if someone proposed to me. When I told her that someone had, she about died. I just told her, I wasn't ready yet. That's all I said.

But the truth of the matter is this, 6 men have asked me, a total of 12 times. Will #13 be the lucky number? Will I continue to run? Do I have a problem to work through?

12 times you ask? What happened? Sanchoncito...he asked me to marry him 4 times! Oh, and I didn't count that time we ALMOST got married in Sin City...

Sanchoncito asked me to marry him, the first time, after he landed his first big job. Before he moved. I didn't want to hold him back. So I let him go. It broke my heart. But it was the right thing to do. He asked me again, right before my Uncle Al died. I remember it clearly. We had just finished a big concert. The 2 of us were sitting by the pool. He wanted nothing more than for me to become his wife. And to move to Florida to be with him. But life happened. The 3rd time was the night of Linda and Gabe's wedding. I think he was caught up in the "Magic" of the night. And the 4th time came right before he left for Mexico.

I loved him so much. Heck, I know that I still love him. But our lives have just never been at the same place, at the same time. It just never worked out. Although, I have to say, the rings have gotten better every time he's asked. ;)

Then there was J. He asked me 3 times. During the ups and downs of our friendship, I've always known that he's loved me. I just knew. From the moment that we met. And he's always been here for me. 3 times, he asked me to be his wife. He wants to take care of me. He wants to be the man that I love. He wants a family. And he wants nothing more than to love me, full heartily. Body and soul, he wants us to be one.

3 times, in that gorgeous Southern accent, he's asked me to be his wife, the mother of his children, his partner in life. 3 times, I stared into his gorgeous green eyes. Trying to come up with a reason to not marry him. And nothing came to mind. Not a thing! But it always ended the same. With me saying no. With me walking silently away, tears streaming down my cheeks, and me driving away. I didn't have a reason to NOT marry him. But I didn't know how to say yes either.

Twice my boss, "Daddy Warbucks" has asked me to marry him. Twice! The "Billionaire Extraordinaire" from my hometown, has asked me to be his bride. He told me that he loved me. He didn't know how or when it happened. Only that it had happened. Yes, he asked 2 times. At the top of his world. Overlooking the beautiful city, where he lives. Two times, I had to tell him, he was in love with the idea of being married. Not with the woman-child that was standing in front of him.

Once Albert asked me. I'm not sure what prompted it. I don't know where the feelings were coming from. Or if things had changed between us. But he asked. A beautiful antique ring in hand. He got down on one knee, and asked me to love him forever. I was stunned! I didn't know what to say. I made him stand up. And gently told him that we needed time to think about this. I honestly didn't know what to say.

Omar asked once too. I think he was just feeling lonely. At a time in my life, when I was also lonely. And it could have been so easy to have said yes. To have told him yes. But I thought better of my answer. I thought about the emotional state he was in. And I gently told him no. Because I know he is still not ready for that step in his life.

And once, a man completely took me by surprise. Mr. "Blue Eyes." I went out East to work. The band went to work. I had known my boss and friend for over 2 years at this point. We had become close friends. We talked a lot. We didn't see a lot of each other. Because we live a mere 1745 miles from one another.

But during our last trip, as a band, to the East, I was shocked. One night that we were there, everyone was asleep. Of course, I couldn't sleep. And I didn't want to wake up my best friend. Or anyone else in the house. So I went outside. I sat on the porch. And just looked out into the darkness. Mr. "Blue Eyes" was also awake. On the opposite side of the house. And when he heard his dog, he came to investigate.

Before I knew it, we were driving to another part of his property. In the middle of the night. In our PJs. We ended up at a beautiful clearing. So beautiful! The moon was shining just perfectly. And it was so incredibly quiet and peaceful. The 2 of us stood there looking around us. We were in the middle of nowhere. But it was perfect!

He started to tell me all these things. About how much he loved me. About how he could see us having a future together. How this was the spot that he wanted to build his "Forever Home" one day. The day that he found "The One," and they began their life together. This was the place were he wanted to build his future and his family. He pulled out the most incredibly ring I've ever seen in my life. Ever! Sparkling in the moonlight. He got down on one knee and asked me to be his "Forever."

I was honestly stunned. Without words. I didn't know what to do. Or what to say. We'd never dated. Yes, we'd spent time together. We had talked a lot. We had become amazing friends. But beyond that, I just didn't have anything to go on. I mean, how could I move across the country, for this man? Did he really love me? Did I love him? Could we spend our lives together?

I sank to my knees. So we could be face to face. I held his face in my hands. I said nothing. I just held his face. Our foreheads pressed against each others. The tears spilling from my eyes. I just knew, it wasn't right at this time. I never said a thing. I just stared into his eyes.

There you go. 6 amazing men. 12 incredible times. Me? I'm still single. Ridiculously, almost painfully, single. I'm not sure. How does this happen? Am I the problem in every situation? Why do men feel the need to ask me this incredible question? Out of these men, I've only ever dated one. Funny thing, Sanchoncito and I were never dating during the 4 proposals. Or the one "Almost Wedding."

Maybe I was meant to be "Forever Single." Or maybe I haven't met "The One." Maybe I just needed some time to "Find Myself." I'm finally feeling more "Complete and Whole." You know, as a person. Maybe this is what I needed. Some time to grow and become the woman I was meant to be. I just hope, that now, there is a man willing to ask me those four simple words. ♥

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Crazy Neighbor?

I've been thinking about this. Because it really did scare me. And it's really out of the ordinary for my neighborhood...

Yesterday, we got back to town. It's been a crazy couple of days. Heck, I can go out on a limb and say, it's been a crazy couple of weeks! But we made it back. Sanchoncito came back with us. Completely unexpected, because I thought he was going back to Mexico. But as you will find out, I was so completely grateful that he came back.

From the airport, we had an hour drive home. And I rode with Memo and Cari. They dropped me off at my house, and I'm assuming, went home. I was completely exhausted! All I wanted to do, was get home and get some studying done, pack a bag for today, and crawl into bed. I should have gone with my instincts...

Well, I felt gross from the flight and decided to take a quick shower. Don't think I'm crazy, but I went to my car for my comfy sweats. Yes, I have an overnight bag in my car. Because many times, I get a call and have to go on a road trip in a few minutes. Or I get stuck at work. Yes, working at a hospital is insane! And it requires a bag of clothes and basic grooming products. So I went to my car. Which is parked in my carport.

As I was walking from the carport back to my front door, my neighbor past by. And like every other day, I waved. I wave to all the neighbors. Heck, I wave to the people that walk and run through our neighborhood in the mornings. I live in a friendly neighborhood. But not like most days, my neighbor stopped. And he introduced himself. His name is John. At least, I think it's John. And he's lived in his house for 4 years? I think that's what he said. He also told me that another one of our neighbors had died. Very sad. That's 2 neighbors in less than 10 days!

Like my friend that lives across the way, he told me that if I ever need anything, just "holler." I said OK. He sounded nice. And it was actually nice, to finally talk to this man, that I always wave to. Before he left, he mentioned that he was going to be roasting some green chili and grilling some ribs. It was for his kids' birthdays. He's a 30 something year old, single dad. They were having a nice meal that night. He asked if I liked ribs, and I said yes. I wasn't going to lie. He asked, I answered. I thought nothing of it.

Well, he left. And I went back into my house. And before getting into the shower, I decided that I should probably go workout first. Because I had a feeling, that the rest of the day, was going to be pretty lazy. Let's face it, my suitcase was still sitting next to the front door. In the exact place, I had left it. So I changed clothes, and went for a run.

When I got home, the little old lady next door, came out of her house. She looked a little shocked. And she told me that John had come by my house. Looking for me, she guessed. He knocked and hollered for me. Which scared her. And she came outside to see what was going on. She told him that I had left. So he eventually left.

About an hour later, I got home. That's when I talked to the little old lady. I was confused. I had no idea what was going on. But I was tired. And covered in sweat and dirt. So I decided to go shower. And right after, I fell asleep. I'm not going to lie. I was exhausted. And when I woke up, it was evening time. I figured, I'd get some yard work done. You know, it consumes my life. This yard is just too big for one person. But I needed to water and get some of the weeds pulled. So I changed into some "too big for me" jeans and an old t-shirt. I fought with the hose, which busted, while on. I dug up some grass in the flower beds. And tried to water some of my plants and flowers.

John came over just as I was wrestling the old hose out of the shed. The little gate was locked. I was on the gated side of the fence. Completely covered in mud. John couldn't get to my side of the fence, because the gate was locked. But he came with arms full of food. A frozen container of enchilada sauce, some bags of freshly roasted green chili, a plate of ribs, and a bucket of fresh eggs. Um, what?

I didn't remember saying that I needed food. But I was being polite. Heck, Jan next door, used to always bring me food. Granted that we knew each other really well, and at least sat and talked once a week. But like I said, I live in a friendly neighborhood. Heck, the entire town is friendly like this! I told John "Thank You." It was way more than he should have done.

He continued to talk. About some fire pit that he has behind his house. And how he was going to be having a fire that night. OK. Well, he invited me. And I told him that I would probably be working and studying...maybe next time. Again, I was trying to be polite. All I could think about was getting some sleep.

He left. I went back to working. I unlocked the gate. Watered the plants and flowers in the front. I left the gate open while I had the sprinkler on in the front yard. Because the other hose had busted, I had to leave the gate open. And I continued to pull weeds in the side yard. But near the back. John came back again.

This time, he was walking. And he came to bring me his phone number. Just in case I ever needed it. I thought this was insane. But whatever. Other neighbors had given me their phone numbers. But we had known each other for a while. And we lived closer. And took care of each other's homes. At this point, I was just tired. And trying to get my yard work done. John kept talking. I kept pulling weeds. But I was starting to feel increasingly uncomfortable. Finally he left.

I was uncomfortable, tired, and hungry. The mosquitoes were biting me. And well, I was ready for a break. Heck, it was already almost dark. So I put all my tools away. Locked up all the gates. And headed inside. I put some enchiladas together, threw them in the oven, and put some rice to cook. Then, I headed to go take a shower. Remember, I was covered in mud!

Just as I got in the shower, I heard someone banging on the screen door. And then on the front windows. Screaming, "Hey! Anyone there?" Um, I had just gotten in the shower. I was tired. I wanted to have dinner. It was nearly 9PM! I just wanted to scream "GO AWAY!" But I was in the shower.

I tried to ignore him. But I guess the light from my laptop was enough to keep him there yelling. The entire house was dark. Except the light from my laptop, which was sitting near a front window. And the light from the bathroom. Which you can't see from the front of the house.

I showered. Heck if I know how long I was in there. I was tired. And seriously, I was falling asleep while trying to shower. Every time I would hear him yell, it woke me up. And the dogs were going nuts outside. I showered, got dressed, turned off the stove, turned off the oven, and quietly made my way to lay down. I really didn't want to deal with this man. I maneuvered through my dark house, and just laid down.

And I lay in bed for at least 30 minutes. The dogs are going nuts! And I was getting frustrated. Seriously man, if I'm not answering the door, and 95% of the lights are off, it's time to go home. But he wouldn't. As I was getting ready to call my "Cop Friend," who lives down the other side of the street, I heard my other neighbors get home. The little old man, from across the street, came to my rescue!

He cussed out John. Told him he had 30 seconds to get off my property or he was going to call the cops. I love that old man! John and the little old man began yelling at each other. It was getting crazy. And I think more people were becoming aware of the situation. So John finally left. The dogs quieted down. And I still lay there. Not moving. In complete darkness. I was scared. My neighbors probably assumed I wasn't home. Lots of times, I catch a ride with a doctor to the hospital. Or I walk to school. Or something of the sort. It's not uncommon to see my car at my house, and I'm not home.

But what was up with this man? I didn't ask him to bring me the food. Heck, it's all in the freezer. Not sure I'm going to be eating it. I didn't invite him to my house. And I didn't tell him that I was going to his house. He is sure nuts. Don't you think?

Well, sometime after 10PM, I was still scared. And not getting a damn thing done. Just laying in bed. In complete silence and darkness. Just waiting for this crazy man to come back. So I called Sanchoncito. Who I knew, was at his own house. He could tell I was scared. The second I said "Hello," I could hear him turn off his TV, and head out the door. I didn't ask him to, but he was coming over.

In record time, 10 minutes later, Sanchoncito was at my front door. I had never been so happy to see this man! As he pulled into my driveway, I peeked out the window. Relief took over my body. I ran to the front door, and I hugged him. I let him into my house, and I told him what had happened. He thought the entire situation, was just as crazy as I did. Sanchoncito told me, there was no way he was leaving me there alone, for the night.

Just as we were sitting down to watch some TV, John came back. Was banging on the windows. Screaming for me. I freaked out. Sanchoncito got up. He told me to lock the door behind him. He went out the front door, I locked it, and he went out the locked porch. I could him them arguing. And I called my "Cop Friend." He was on duty. And actually down the road. Lights and sirens on, he was in front of my house before we got off the phone.

He came and told John he needed to leave immediately. And if he was caught there again, if there was any trouble at my house, or anything whatsoever happened at my house, they would be going after him. John was beyond mad! I think he honestly figured that Sanchoncito and I were dating or something. He wasn't happy that I wouldn't answer the door for him, but this other man, I let him in.

My "Cop Friend" took a bunch of information down. Made sure I wasn't going to be alone. We talked about my schedule for the next 2 weeks. And he assured me that he'd be patrolling around the neighborhood and taking extra care around my house. He also made sure that Sanchoncito was going to be around for at least a week. No one wanted me to be alone. Then he left.

Sanchoncito knew I had to leave early this morning. Knew I had to work. But he didn't want me to stay at my house alone. So he stayed with me. I made him come with me to my room, so I could pack my bag. It was like I expected John to pop out from under the bed or from the closet. And then Sancho took my bag to my car. I then had to do some work for the hospital, and Sancho sat quietly reading some book I had on my bookshelf.

I was still too rattled to sleep, so we watched whatever dumb shows come out in the middle of the night. It was that bad! He sat on the couch. I was on the rocking chair. It really didn't help that it was super windy outside too. There was a big storm blowing in. And before I knew it, I was sitting right next to Sanchoncito. Every noise scared me. When in the world did I become so scared? I swear, I've lived here for 9 years. I've never been scared. I've never been afraid to be alone. Last night, I was practically sitting in Sanchoncito's lap.

Well, eventually, I fell asleep. On the couch. Sancho stayed awake. I think he feared that I'd sleep through my 4AM wake up call. He sat in the dark. On the rocking chair. I remember this, because at some point during the night, I saw him sitting there. I slept on the couch. Aren't we hilarious? I have a 3 bedroom house. And I sleep on the couch.

At 4AM, Sanchoncito came to wake me up. I swear, I about died. I don't know what I thought. If someone had gotten in. Or what. But I freaked. Sanchoncito calmed me down. But he could tell, this man had freaked the crap out of me!

I got ready. Sanchocito made us some breakfast. Um, does it count if he just made instant oatmeal? Ya, it does. Because that's all I really had in my house. And I got ready to leave. Sanchoncito and I locked up my house, and he checked out my car. I got in. He got in his truck. And he followed me to the gas station, and then out of town. Literally, he followed me for about 20 miles, before turning around, and heading back to his house. He just wanted to make sure I was going to be OK.

But this has really freaked me out. Like what am I supposed to do? Should I call the cops and report it? Should I tell him to leave me alone? Will the dude go all psycho on me? Should I keep my trap shut? Maybe I should just call my "Cop Friend" and ask his opinion.

Honestly, why do all the weirdos find me? Yes, I have four restraining orders already. Two weirdos found me at school. Both girls. Both insane! The other two are for crazy family members. I stopped going to church at 7AM, because of that weird old man. Now this? What do I do? I mean, I don't feel safe in my own home now.

Tonight, I'm staying at my parents' house. Because I'm working in town today. And tonight is Patrick's Rosary. But I really don't want to go home. I have to. But I don't want to. And I highly doubt that Sanchoncito, is still going to be there for a few more days.. Even if he is there, what am I going to say? Can you stay at my house? You know, I'm scared...

Um, I can't do that. I could stay at his house, or at J's. Heck even Memo's. But what would that solve? I would still feel uncomfortable at my house. And I don't want to tell my parents. They'd freak out. So I think I'm just going to enjoy the safety here, tonight. And tomorrow, I'm going to go see my "Cop Friend" when I get home. He's a professional after all. I'm sure he'll know what to do. ♥

Monday, September 20, 2010

He's My Soft Place to Fall

Yesterday, I got 5 calls from my parents. In about a 4 minute time frame. All followed by a page. Then a pretty serious text. But I was on my way to Javi's wedding. With all my friends and their kids. Not the best time to take the call. I knew it was going to be serious. More than likely, bad news.

As soon as the wedding was over, and Sanchoncito and I had sang, I made my way to that little room. It's small, with the old fashioned seats. And a small vanity. I'm supposing, that is where the bride waits, before the walk down the aisle. I went to make "the call."

I didn't notice, Sanchoncito was right behind me. We hadn't had a chance to talk that day. Earlier in the day, we past each other, in the hall of the hotel. But I was trying to help my friends with their kids. And I missed him. We met at the Chapel that evening. But again, we were busy. We were trying to help friends get situated. And get ourselves warmed up for the wedding. And we just didn't talk. No familiar hug...

But at that moment, all that was on my mind was "the call" I had to make. And I made "the call." I got the incredibly sad news. I tried so hard to hold it together. I was brave. I bit my lip as my Mom told me that Patrick had past on. The day before. And my mind was suddenly overflowing with memories of this incredible man. I didn't want to fall apart while talking to my Mom. But the minute I hung up, I fell apart. Patrick was so incredibly special to me. This is such a HUGE loss!

And who was there for me? Sanchoncito. I hung up the phone. The tears came streaming down. And he came to scoop me up. I was like this little rag doll that he just picked up. He just let me fall apart. He let me cry. Like the "old days." When I was falling apart, during some tragic part of my life. Like when my aunt and my uncle past away.

It was so welcoming and comforting. He was the soft, warm place I needed to land. Isn't that crazy? The man who I haven't really talked to in a year and a half. The man that I got into a huge fight with over a year ago. The man that I told, I never wanted to see or speak to again. The same man that was so very rude last Fall. The man that my friends couldn't stand, and my boss punched, in the middle of our rehearsal. The same man that I barely talked to that very day. The same man that I had just sang "Somos Novios" with. And looked me in the eye like he used to. That man.

I don't know what I would have done without him. Because I really did fall apart. I cried for what seemed like a lifetime. I kept replaying memories of Patrick in my head. Thinking to myself, I'm never going to get to talk to him again. He's never going to give me another hug. We're never going to get to take picture #2, 3, and 4. He's never going to visit my home. I'm never going to be able to bake him another cake. He's never going to call me Ms. D___ again. He will never see me accomplish my goals. The same goals that he encouraged. I was devastated. My world felt so empty.

And in those moments, this man held me. Let me cry. Didn't ask what had happened. Was just there for me. It makes me wonder. Is he the one I'm supposed to be with for a lifetime? Who else would just be there like this? Who else would hold me that tight, and literally try to carry the weight of the world for me? Where else could I feel this safe?

As my tear soaked face sank deeper into his chest. As my breathing was labored. As my world was crumbling around me. He just held me. At one point, I know someone came into the room. Who? I have no clue. He just whispered, that we'd get to the reception on our own. The door closed. And he held me tighter. Like my life honestly depended upon it.

When I was done crying. When my tears had dried up. And my breathing began to return to normal, he placed his forehead against mine and whispered, "Amorcita, is there anything I can do?" The look in his eyes, so honest and sincere. That was the man I had once loved, with my entire heart and soul. The man, that I once imagined I would spend my life with. We'd have babies and grow old together. Always singing and playing together. At one time, I had thought that would be our life.

Ironically, I had once talked to Patrick about Sanchoncito. About the amazing man that I could tell was stealing my heart. The man that I was giving my heart to. But his few thoughtful words, in that instant, they opened the flood gets yet again. And Sanchoncito held me even tighter. Tucked my head under his chin, and wrapped his arms around me. It was like, he has been the only person, who has completely understood me.

We sat there for what felt like hours. I don't know how long it was. Just that he was my soft place to fall. He held me together. He didn't mind the tear stained shirt. Or the lipstick on his tie. He didn't mind that I stole his handkerchief because I had no Kleenex. And that we missed the cocktail hour, of one of his best friend's wedding. He didn't mind and didn't care about those details. He only cared about the woman that was falling apart. His only concern was making me feel better. He didn't mind those other things. At last, I was attempting to regain my composure, as he called for a car. A car that he had to pay for. And on the way from that little room to the wedding reception, all I needed was to hold onto his hand. He didn't mind. He was perfect.

It's crazy. So much has happened. So much time has past. He has angered so many people. Most of all...he had angered me to my very core. I was even disappointed in him and the things he was doing. We haven't talked in such a long time. But last night, he made sure I was OK. He stood by my side almost all night. He never told anyone what happened. Or asked me what that call was about. He gave me his mini dessert plate. Just to get me to smile. And put a pretty red rose in my hair. He helped me with all of our friends' kiddos. And managed to find me some ice cream to go with the yummy cake. Just for me.

When I needed a break, he came with me outside. And just sat there. Let me be. We danced. I danced with other friends. He got the musicians and DJ to play lots of my favorite songs. And I tried to enjoy the moment. Not for me, but for my friends. I tried to celebrate my friends. And their new marriage. When it became too much for me, Sanchoncito took over.

At the end of the night, he made sure I got to my room. With my favorite little girls in tow. We managed to get everyone to bed. And he sat with me. Looking out the window of my big hotel suite. Right outside these huge windows, the whole world was going on, like nothing had ever happened. This man, my shoulder to cry on, my soft place to land, my safe place, with the perfect nook for my head to land, was there for me. We sat. And watched the people move about. And I tears steadily rolled down my cheeks.

In the last 9 years, he's the person that has been there for me. Every single time that I've needed him. Every single time my world has exploded. When my Nanie got sick, and later my Auntie Chuchie. When I almost died in that car accident. Later that week, when my Auntie Chuchie died. When my uncle died a month later. That summer when I had surgery. And refused to tell my family. When I started working through my problems. When my Auntie Jo died. And then when my Uncle Al died. He was there. Always there.

I don't know if we'll ever get back to where we once were. Or if we were ever meant to be a couple. But I do know something, he is an amazing friend. Because no matter what has gone on between us, he's been here, when I need him. It scares me, to think that he might not be here one day. But for now, he's my soft place to land. And I'm glad I have him. ♥

Friday, September 17, 2010

Vegas Baby!

We're on our way to Las Vegas right now! Yes people, we almost missed our flight. But never fear, we made it!

I'm sitting here. Still with my hair up, red roses in, my big earrings, a full face of makeup, and a pair of sweats. Very glamorous for a red eye to Las Vegas. Albert is sitting next to me. Maribel is crashed out on top of him. I swear, we have the cutest Goddaughter ever!

And what are we all doing? We're going to Las Vegas to perform. Scratch that. The guys are going to finish teaching. I'm along for the ride. Because we're all performing in the big show, on Saturday night. And our friends are getting married on Sunday. A wedding that I'm singing at. With Sanchoncito. This should be interesting...

But I'm really looking forward to this mini trip of ours. I desperately need the money for school. I love to perform. I LOVE Mariachi. I'm getting the chance to go to Javi's wedding. And I get to spend time with all of my favorite Ninitos. :)

That to me, sounds like an amazing time. And I get home just in time for school and work. What more can I ask for? Um, a nap. So I'm going to go. We have a little while left in the air. And I'm going to sleep. Because apparently, I'm one of the last people still awake on this flight. And sleep, well it just sounds really nice, after the long day of work that we had. ♥

Thursday, September 16, 2010

His Birthday and a Little Singing

Today is the "Cowboy's" birthday. How do I know? Because he called me this morning. When I was on my way home. He just felt like talking. And he was getting ready to head home. For a class or something.

How did I find out it was his birthday? Because as we were talking, one of his buddies wished him a Happy Birthday. The funny thing was, he was trying to make me feel better. You know, after all the work I've been doing. And all the stress I've been under. He is just too sweet.

Our conversation actually started with him singing me "Good Morning Beautiful." He honestly is just too sweet! And he really does make my days better. Just with little calls like this one. As soon as he started to sing the words, a smile just came across my face. It's still there! :)

I feel bad though. Because I didn't know it was his birthday. I didn't get him a card or anything. I'm going out of town tomorrow. You know the drill. But I promised to make him a big birthday cake. I just didn't think it out though. How I was going to get it to him?

Before we hung up, I sang Happy Birthday to him. I swear, if I could have seen his face, it would have been bright red! I could just see that sideways smile of his. And I probably would have seen the twinkle in his eyes. You know, some people are just born with that. But he shyly told me "Thank you." He never expected that I'd really sing to him. You could honestly hear the happiness in his voice.

But more than anything, I hope he has a great birthday! He really is an amazing man. Generous, sweet, and caring. There are not many men out there like him. Trust me. As a single woman, I know this. But today, I just want him to have a nice day. Happy Birthday Handsome!

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Holding True

There's this man. I loved him. I love him. I'm not really sure if it's past or present. But in my heart, it feels like it's still there.

I've never thought of love as being complete. You hear women say it all the time, I'm looking for the man that completes me. I'm not. I need to complete me. I'm looking for the man that compliments the woman that I am, that challenges me to grow, that will help me to be a better person. That's what I'm looking for.

This man, he's an amazing man. Talented, hardworking, loving, caring, and so funny! From the same home state as me. But he grew up north of where I did. We share the same religion, passion for music, and love of life. But our dreams and hopes for the future, lead the two of us, on two very different roads.

He recently started a blog. And I'm not sure what to think of it. I know how he feels. I know how I feel. But does that make something like this logical? I'm not sure...

Yesterday morning, I watched this video, read this tweet, and read this blog post. It just made me think, I need to stick to my guns. He has a lot to prove to me. A lot to apologize for. And he needs to work on gaining my trust again. I didn't do anything wrong. And I'm not compromising who I am, because he suddenly woke up.

It's crazy. He was the person I went to for everything! We'd hangout at school. He'd bring me a peanut butter sandwich between classes. I would have class from 6AM-10PM. We'd talk about life. Things we wanted. How many kids we wanted. What we'd name them. Where we'd live. The fact that I want to stay home with my kids. And he always felt like he needed to be able to support a family on his own.

When things were really bad, I went to him. There were many nights, that he helped me out. Just listening. Helping me to work through one of the worst things that could ever happen to a young girl. Something that I had buried deep down inside. Never told anyone. To this day, the only 2 people I've told, are him and my counselor. And as a young adult, it came bubbling to the surface. He helped me through it. Encouraged me to get help. And to work on putting it behind me.

He was also the one I ran to when I lost my uncle. I cried. I held on to him like he was the sole reason I was alive. He reassured me. Held me tight let me cry. And arranged for me to get home for the services. In mere hours, I was on a cross country flight home.

This man, held my hand before surgery. Before a surgery that I didn't tell my parents about until 4 or 5 years later! He was there. Took care of me. Literally helped me do everything I needed to do for weeks after. Besides my mom and grandma, I don't think anyone else has ever washed my dirty clothes. But he did. And bought me groceries. Tried to cook. Carried me to and from my house to his truck. Drove 90 minutes my doctor's appointments and back again. He was there for me.

He knows more about me than any other single person on this planet. Everything! My deepest and darkest secrets. The horrible stuff that I endured as a kid. The loneliness I felt growing up. My insecurities. All of my accomplishments. My likes. My dreams. What makes my blood boil over. How to get me to fall asleep. He knows it all.

I never felt safer, more loved, or more comfortable than I did around him. His hugs, they were like a warm blanket, that wrapped around my soul. He made me toes curl with a single grin. And my heart race every time he sang. No place felt more safe, than tightly wrapped in his arms. Listening to his heart beat.

He was the one. We joked many, many times about getting married. At 19, I almost did. In "Sin City." We were working a gig. And as poor as they get. We had just realized, we could get some help with our tuition, if we got married. It would cost less than $100. We seriously considered it. But ended our night with a mini wedding cake instead. When he got the big job in Florida, he asked me to marry him again. For real this time. Ginormous diamond ring included. Down on one knee. Tears in his eyes. Arms held out. Because he loved me. And he wanted us to have a life together...

We talked about. About marriage, life, work, careers, moves, homes, and babies. But I knew he needed to chase after his dreams. He wanted to be a musician. And he had every right to do it. He worked hard for this job. I didn't want him to give it up for me. To one day regret not taking the job. And blaming it one me. I knew he had to go. And I knew that I needed to stay here. To work. To go to school. To accomplish all those things my parents wanted me to do.

So I stayed. He left. We tried to make it work. And it was going OK. Until he moved out of the country. And our lives really took different paths. Jealousy set in. Accusations started. The fighting began. The horrible fighting. I couldn't stand to hear his voice, much less see his face. Every single time we saw each other, it turned into WWIII. No lie!

And last summer, it was like the volcano erupted. Just everything the two of us had been holding in, came out. 6AM, in the middle of my front yard. I'd worked 4 days straight. Just drove into my driveway. And he had just gotten back from a tour. I knew in an instant, he had changed...

This wasn't the same man. He had hatred in his eyes. It was like his soul was empty. Missing something. The life, it wasn't shining through his eyes anymore. That, was the last time we talked. The very last time.

Because we have the same friends, work similar gigs, and well, have to see each other from time to time, we've become civil. Not that it's been easy. He did get punched out in a rehearsal. And was asked to leave. Not by me. But by our boss, and my friend. It was shocking. But real life. Slowly, we've begun to heal. We e-mail each other from time to time. But we haven't really talked.

A very close friend of ours, she wants us to talk. She sees both sides. She travels with him and her husband. She's one of my best friends. She really wants us to sit and talk about it. To work through this. We were the "Happy Little Couple." Everyone just expected that one day, we'd make it official. I'm not so sure anymore. But I would like my old friend back. Especially since, we still have to sing together. In less than a month, we're singing for a friend's wedding. Then a show 2 weeks after that.

But listening to the end of this video, reading this tweet, and reading Kandee's letter, it makes me think, I don't ever want to compromise my beliefs, values, and morals. I'm 27 years old. Successful. On my own. No man, and I mean NO MAN, owns me. I'm a person. Not a piece of property. And I deserve and expect to be treated with respect.

It's funny. So many men, they just want sex. That's it. Plain and simple. Being a female performer, I see this a lot. Guys think they're all that and a sack of potatoes. Throwing around cash. Acting like fools. Thinking that will get my attention. Funny how it doesn't. What you see on stage, that's a character. I get paid to be that person. When I leave the stage, I wash off the makeup, throw on a pair of sweats, and comb through my hair. The HUGE and oh so fancy hotel suites, well, I go back alone. To read, study for my classes, and to go to sleep. I'm really not that exciting.

He got that. He understood. I think he actually preferred me in sweats, no makeup, and my out of control hair. He never pressured me into anything. Just realized that I was me. And I had my own time table for things. Beliefs in life. For love.

The ring I wear on my left hand. It's more than a piece of jewelry. It means something to me. I don't care if I'm 27 or not. Or if people think I'm an "Old Maid." That doesn't matter to me. It's a ring I bought for myself. A promise I made to myself. Because one day, I'm going to find the right man for me. That loves, honors, and respects me, for the person I am. Maybe it will be him again. I don't know...

I guess, only time will tell. But I do know, I have to stay true to the woman that I am. I'm special. I'm the only person that is like me. No one else even comes close. Because God has made us all unique. Maybe I'm not right for this man. But there is someone out there. Someone that God made just for me. I just need to be patient. And I can never lose myself in other people. It hurts too much. And through these 3 very different women, I got the message. Loud and clear. I need to be true to me. Because in the end, it's just not worth it to lose yourself in a man. ♥

Thursday, August 26, 2010

A Change in the Air

This morning, I woke up to a chilly house. The first chilly morning since last Spring. It's more than welcomed here. Because 100+ temperatures are more common than not.

I just love when the seasons start to change. We're far from being in the clear. The summer heat is still going strong during the day. But I have a feeling, I'm going to need to start covering up with some of my favorite blankets. Snuggling up with my books on the couch. And enjoying a few warm drinks at night.

My windows are open. The air is crisp and cool. Definitely a difference from the last few months. Clean and crisp. Like the air has a bite to it. Time to start bundling up. Pulling out more of my scarves. Layering my clothes. And enjoying the weather.♥

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Mi Cucu

Oh, this song! It brings back so many memories. So many! Have you ever heard "Mi Cucu?" Well, when I was about 3 years old, my Nanie used to blast this on the radio. But the english version, "Don't Mess with My Tutu." And we'd go wild. Singing and dancing. I think my Tatie thought we were going nuts. And it was my song until I was at least 12 or 13 years old. That's when I stopped going to sleep at their house.

Fast forward a few years. I think I was 19 years old. And I started singing with a Nortena band. Just when we didn't have Mariachi gigs. It was a favor to one of my professors/friends, Memo. Well, this song came on during a break at our first gig. The first gig I was at. And I knew all the words. Hello! I'd been listening to it for years!

So I sang along and danced with one of the guys from the band. Have I mentioned? I love me a good cumbia too! We had a good time. And by the next gig, I was singing this onstage. Soon, my friend Sanchoncito seen me singing this song. And he told the Mariachi. Well, it became "La Chiquitita's song." No lie! We'd walk into the Convention Center to play, and another Mariachi (our friends) would start playing it!

"Mi Cucu" just took on a life of it's own. Something like "Who Let the Dogs Out" did with the Mariachi from my hometown. Yes, the same thing! So I sang and I danced. No matter where we played. Mexico, here, on the road. Wherever! And that is probably the first song I ever learned how to flirt with the audience with. I will say, that teal traje really came in handy. The one that I could barely sit down in. Perfect for a good Cumbia.

Well, these days, I stick to dancing to this song. Although, a few weeks ago, we did break it out. I sang it at a gig. Berto and I danced with each other, then with some of the people at the party we were playing at. I still love it. It makes me smile every single time I hear it. And who doesn't like a little Cumbia action? Especially with a good dance partner. ♥

Friday, July 30, 2010

Crazy Dreams

Lately, I've been having the craziest dreams. It has absolutely nothing to do with me being sick. It start weeks ago! And they've just got crazier since.

Early this morning, I had a nutty dream. It was mix between an 1800's carnival/parade and my days in cheerleading. I know! Starring none other than the "Cowboy" and I. What is going on?

It started with me in an airport. A large one. Like the one in Atlanta, maybe Orlando, heck NYC? I don't really know where I was. But I was there. With all the girls and the 1 guy that I cheered with in high school. But we were older. Like in our mid 20s. And I wasn't that quiet, shy, and awkward kid anymore. That in of itself, cracked me up!

But we were there. Dressed nicely, makeup done nice, hair in check. With all of our expensive luggage. Um, I've never traveled like that in real life! Anyway, when it's my turn to go through security and all that jazz, I tell them that my uncle died. And I can't leave right away. What uncle? I have no clue!

My coach has already gone through, so there is no yelling from her. And I'm directed to another desk. Where I have to buy a ticket to leave the airport. Not to worry. All my money is going to be returned when I come back to the airport and fly out. Again, I have no idea!

Well, who is waiting for me when I walk out the door? Mr. "Cowboy." The man is haunting my dreams! He kisses me. And we leave together. Like it was planned or something. We end up on some old "Main Street." Like we're in a small town. A lazy, old, small town. Everything is the same from back in the day. And we're getting ready to be in a parade. Oh, we also walked by my uncle's house. He lived on "Main Street," and he was still very much alive!

"Cowboy" and I head into an old building. Inside, there is my college Physics professor. Dressed up in an 1800's suit! Talking with that same heavy German accent. It was so weird! We were putting together a routine. Like a circus act. And we were supposed to be the best there ever was!

The other 8 or so people in this act, I knew them. Various friends of mine, from throughout the years. But "Cowboy" and I were performing together. We also had some "Big" secret. So we got our routine down, and got dressed. I swear, maybe 10 minutes had gone by.

Then the 10 of us were told that we were going to have to take a group of people on a tour of the town first. We were all dressed up! I had on this leotard, bodysuit, corset thing on. I swear, like a circus act from 1880. And before I knew it, we were walking through this HUGE cathedral. Showing these people. It was a Holy Day of obligation. There were so many people in the church. And I was so embarrassed having to wear this get up.

The priest, he was our priest from our church, Papa Rene! He just laughed and said he was ready for the parade. Soon the parade was on, and "Cowboy" is throwing me up in the air. Like we did in cheerleading. But with circus-y type things too. It was so weird! But everyone was cheering. I seen my parents. And his family. It was so real!

When we get done with the parade, we run off. Just the 2 of us. Dressed like this! And we make it to the court house. Where we get married. No one else has a clue. Everyone is still at the parade.

Before I know it, we're walking back into the modern day airport. Holding hands. Happily married. Big wedding rings and all. But by this time, "Cowboy" is in jeans and a dark button down shirt. I'm wearing a black shift dress, with red peep toe shoes. Talk about detail!

The person at the desk call me, Mrs. (and his real last name.) I really don't know what is going on. But we get tickets to Spain. We're going on our honeymoon. And when I turn back around, I have a big pregnant belly to show!

Can we say that this was a weird dream? I've seriously talked to this man twice in my life. For a total of 20 words? I've heard his last name twice. And this is like the 10th pregnancy dream I've had in 3 weeks. What's going on? Is my body trying to tell me something? Is my clock ticking away? Should I really call "Cowboy" back...or should I just forget that I have his number?

I was beyond freaked out when I woke up. I had sweat through all the sheets and blankets. My heart was racing. And it took me a while to figure out where I was. The dream felt so real though. I think that's what scared me so much!

Well, I should get up. I have to go back to the hospital today. Maybe it was just all that medication from yesterday. At least I'm hoping. Because I don't know how to interrupt dreams. But this left me with so many questions. ♥

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Miserable Day

It's sorta funny when I think about. The entire day was pretty bad. It started with me waking up at 2AM because of the shooting pain in my hands and arms. I couldn't sleep. They felt like cement. I couldn't move. And it hurt so bad. But what could I do? Nothing. I have no health insurance. I have no money. Welcome to America.

I spent the next 20 minutes trying to get out of bed. And another 15 minutes trying to open my front door. Where I sat in the silence of early morning. Praying to God. And hoping that the pain and fear would go away. I know something is wrong. This is not normal. I've worked in health care too long to let this fall at the wayside. And the feeling in my gut, that spoke louder than any other person could.

Sometime after 6AM, I called my Dad. I knew he would be up. He's always up early. Just to talk. Maybe talking about nothing at all, maybe that would take my mind off of things. No, it didn't help. The only thing I could get him to talk about was the donut he was eating. And sometime after 7AM, when my Mom woke up, I was still miserable. Add to all of this, the miserable cold I got from getting caught in the rain.

But my Mom and I had a good conversation. We talked about a lot of things. And she was in such a great mood. It helped to lighten my own mood. Not the same type of conversation that my Dad and I had early this morning. But I'm coming to realize, the only time he has any kind of a real conversation with me, is when they fight...

So I went on with my day. I managed to drive myself to the library. I needed to get on the computer for school related things. Never mind that I have a laptop at home. But I have no internet access. And I need a new power cord...

I got some stuff done. But I couldn't finish it in the 1 hour they give you. That's right. You get 1 hour, of computer time, at your local library. Not much I could get done with 2 numb hands. So I headed to work. In pain. I still couldn't feel my hands and arms. And it was becoming difficult to breathe. I Thanked God that J wasn't home. That's all I needed. Was to be lectured by him, because I was feeling so bad and needed to go to the hospital.

From 9:30AM-5:30PM I worked. I locked myself in my office, and I finished all the paperwork for the guys. They're leaving early in the morning. Headed to the next job. I started payroll. And I had a million and a half things to do. Let's not get started on the fact that I couldn't feel my hands. And I've been panicked about that ALL DAY LONG!

I missed my session. And I got the usual call to my cellphone. Which I ignored. Guaranteed Dr. D. was at my front door knocking away. But I had to get through work. And honestly, I was in no mood to deal with all my crap today. I had already called to cancel. Guaranteed, he didn't believe me. So I call my parents when I get home.

I should have known when they didn't answer, that something was up. Because I can always reach them between 5-7PM. ALWAYS! Because they're usually eating dinner, or just finishing dinner, or having dessert. They're like that. On a schedule. But nothing. Not after the 3rd time I called on Dad's cellphone. Not on Mom's phone. Not another 5 times on Dad's. I knew something was up...

Oh ya, the crap really hit the fan tonight. I don't know what started it. Nor do I care. But honestly, I swear to God. If my husband ever told me the things my Dad has, I'd beat the man senseless. I'm not trying to be mean here. But there are certain things, that you should never hear about your parents. EVER! I don't care how mad the other is.

But that is what happened when my Dad called me at almost 6:30PM. I don't know how to put it. But it's time. It's time for them to walk away. There's nothing left there. No respect, no trust, and I'm doubting any love...

It saddens me. But if it will bring peace of mind to the 3 of us, it's time. It really is time. How many times can my Dad imagine things happening? How many times can he put HIS kids in front of my Mom? Hell, he tries to do that with me. I just don't let him. How many truly hurtful things can they say to each other?

That right there, that is the sole reason I run from relationships. I know it. No one has to tell me. I know this. For 27 years, I've heard the same fights. Seen the same things happen. And I usually sweep in, and fix things. But you know what? My own life is going up in flames. And I can't be there to fix them. I'm trying to save myself.

I happened to mention my brother. Oh, that really pissed my Dad off. But how many times can I tell him, he is a big part, of the current problems. How can a man, that is older than my Mom, live with them? Does my Dad really think it was going to be OK? My brother doesn't respect my Mom or me. That's why I've avoided going home. Yes, I used to go home a lot more often. For a week or 2 in the summer. But how can I now? Oh ya, in front of my Dad he acts like this saint of a son and brother. But he's not!

And the neighbors, my Dad doesn't want to know the real reasons why they won't talk to them. The neighbor across the street approached me about my brother. What was I supposed to do? Lie? I just didn't say anything. They showed me the papers they got. But whatever. "We're" not supposed to talk about it.

There are so many things going on. And when I mentioned to my Dad that perhaps my parents should see a counselor. Or maybe each of them talk to a friend. Forget it. He didn't like it. But how in the world, does he think, it's OK to throw all of this crap on top of me? I see a counselor and a psychologist. Just trying to deal with this. All of it! I'm not embarrassed to admit it. Sometimes, we just have to admit what's wrong. It's the only way we're ever going to fix it.

Can I tell you something? I've had a horrible day today. Just plain out horrible. I've never in my life had this kind of pain. Not even after my surgery. Never. Ever. And I've never struggled to breathe this much in my entire life! But I can't afford to go to the doctor. I don't even want to think about what it would cost to go to the ER. And I've never, ever in my life, felt like I've needed to go more that I do today.

And on top of that, I was supposed to go talk to Dr. S. tonight. There is no way I'm going now. I'm late. Seriously late. After my Dad and I got off the phone, I was way too emotional. And already 45 minutes late! Dr. S. was probably planning to just yell at me anyone. Because no one can understand that I seriously can't afford school anymore. I'm broke. And my job is just not cutting it anymore...

Do you know that my life is in absolute ruins at the moment? I feel like I'm in free fall. And nobody, not a single soul, could give a damn! That's my life. I can rely more on my friends than I can on my family. It's just fact. They're so wrapped up, in drama that they create for themselves, that I'm left flapping in the wind. It's always been this way!

And then my Dad has the nerve to tell me that he wishes he would just die. He wants to die right now. Are you freaking serious? He absolutely has no clue. None whatsoever. And here I am. His daughter. His youngest daughter. Over 3 hours away, I can't feel my 2 appendages, I'm struggling to breathe, and you tell me this. How on earth do you think, that is not going to bother me?

I swear to God, I can't win for trying. Not in anything in life. Not in trying to talk to my Dad. Not in music. Because he didn't want me to have a career in it. Never mind that I made more money playing birthday parties, than I ever did at the hospital. I enjoyed it. And I was at least able to afford school and food at the same time. It never mattered to anyone that I nearly killed myself trying to work and go to school. That at one point, I was malnourished. Because I was trying to pay for school. And I honestly couldn't afford food.

Never mind that I've had to walk away from the only thing that was keeping me internship. Even with all the violence I had to endure, being held at gunpoint and all, that was all I had. An internship where I felt useful and productive. I'm scrapping what little money I have, just to pay for tuition. I know I'm going to have to do without books. I picked up an application for the National Guard yesterday. That's how desperate I am.

But nothing matters. It doesn't matter that I've been on the Dean's List since I started college. Or that I have a 4.0 GPA. None of that matters. Because people are too wrapped up in their own lives. All my Dad can ever see is, this child that is his daughter. And why in hell can't I graduate already. I feel like a failure in his eyes. I always have. No matter how hard I try.

My brother is so freaking paranoid that I'm going to walk away with everything, that he had the nerve to put me down when I left last week. I almost told my Dad. ALMOST! I was so close to telling him just what my brother said. Because he always waits until no one is around. Grow a pair. Be a man, and say what is on your mind in front of our Dad. If you have the guts to tell me, tell him too! Are you honestly going to tell me crap about bringing home groceries? Because Lord help me, my parents bought me some food. Free willed. I never told them that they had too. Or that I needed it.

This while he stays in their home. It's been almost 7 months. He doesn't buy food. All summer that I've gone, he wasn't working. But he feels like he has the right to tell me something about my groceries? Oh, bull crap! Do you even know how to clean the bathroom you use? Can you offer to do the dishes after I cook? No. You eat, and you run to your girlfriend.

Do you know that soon after he moved in with them, he said something to me? Ya. Something very hurtful. Something that made me refuse to go to the store with my parents. Something that stuck in my head. That had me avoiding my parents' house. I wouldn't let them buy me a loaf of bread. I hardly went to visit them for a long time. Then when I would go, I would avoid being at the house. I'd go to the library during the day. And the office at night. Because of what he said. But our Dad never knew the truth...

Then sometime during the summer, I said to hell with him. If he gets to live there for free, and eat for free...who is he to tell me anything, when my parents buy me some groceries? So when my parents wanted to take a road trip, I was game for it. Or if they felt like buying me some groceries or a couple of shirts, I figured, it was THEIR BUSINESS. NOT HIS! It's not like I'm running off with THEIR money. Or only going to see them for food, trips, and shopping. I go to see them. BOTH of my parents. Because I think he forgets that MY MOM is just as important as OUR DAD! I still only eat 1 meal a day. And a little something when I take my medication. I still live off of very little money. But I do this on my own. Can he say the same?

But that is what I'm dealing with. I just pray to God that he helps my parents. They need all the prayers they can get. Whether it's time for them to part ways or not. Maybe they shouldn't have listened to their 5 year old daughter, 22 years ago. The daughter that begged them to get married...

And I also prayed to God, that if there is something serious wrong with me, just to take me. I can't handle this much longer. The pain. Both physical and emotional. I'm sitting here an empty shell. Unable to let anyone love me. I can't trust. And I'm starting to lose faith in this game we call life. I really have no faith in people. Not Mr. Blue Eyes who wants nothing more than to help me heal. And to love me. Not the Cowboy who makes me smile, with the sound of his voice. Not Sanchocito who I really thought I could let in. And most certainly not J. The man who would do anything for me. But I can't.

These are my friends. What they don't realize is the hurt and the pain I've lived through. My inability to trust anyone. Or to truly believe that someone can love you without, expecting something from you. Or hurting you. I'm so afraid of being hurt. But honestly, how much worse can it get? This horrible secret that I've had stuck inside me, since I was 7 years old, I could never ever tell my parents. I would never know how to begin...

Let's be real. They have enough going on. And maybe I was only sent to earth to try and make peace of their lives. I don't know. I sit and ask God every single day to give me strength. To help me along. But at this point, not only is the world fighting against me. My own body is turning on itself.

I don't know how much more I can take. I really wish Memo or O was here. I need someone to just listen to me. To reassure me that I'm going to make it until tomorrow. Because I'm really not sure. Everything hurts. My heart, my head, my soul. Physical pain. Emotion pain. Mental pain.

People see me. They really think I have it all together. How else would they trust me with their kids? What else would motivate people to ask me to be their kids' Godmother, or their Madrina for their wedding? I'm not sure. I want to be as strong as people think I am. I'm just not sure that I am. Or that I have the ability anymore.

I've always said there is a lot of fight inside of me. But when there is nothing left. And you're an empty shell, where do you dig for what you need to survive? I'm at that point. I want to call someone to talk to. But the only person that comes to mind, he has enough on his plate. A serious illness that has returned. And do I really want to burden him with all of this? Do I want him to see this disastrous side of my life? The side that makes me not believe in love or in people.

At this point, I know I'm in the world alone. I know that for a fact. After today, that was made blatantly clear. From a parent that felt his emotional needs were greater than my physical ones, to the loss in humanity as a whole. I wipe away the tears, I try to gather strength, and I pray to God that he gives me another day to live. No matter how hard you work, life is nothing more than a dog fight. ♥