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! ♥

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." ♥

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. ♥

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. ♥

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. ♥

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. ♥

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 afloat...my 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. ♥

A Day of Mariachi

This is some of the beautiful music that I have the pleasure and privilege of playing today. I just love Mariachi music! It has a truly special place in my heart. The music is beautiful. I feel like I'm helping our culture to live a little longer every single time I play. Not to mention, I feel like I can bring a sense of pride to our heritage.

Almost 15 years ago, I started on this amazing path. It has not all been hearts and sugar pops. I had to work hard. Find a place I fit in. And a group that respected me. But it has been worth it. I get to play in Mariachi. One of my dreams in life. And I've met some of the most amazing people. People that will be in my life, for a lifetime. Friends that have become mi familia. I'm honored. And so glad God send me on this journey. :)

I really am honored to put on a traje and call myself a Mariachi. Today, I'm playing with my friends. Being with them, it just makes the day that much more amazing! And I can't wait to spend the day making beautiful music, meeting new people, and dancing with mis payasos! ♥

Pond Friends Stacking Toy

I really want to make this cute toy for Baby C. My best friend's little girl, Baby C, is due in October. And I've been making so many things for her. But this little toy, it's just too cute! And I want to make it. I need to get some yarn though. I can't wait!

I know, it's probably a little premature. Being that Baby C isn't even here yet. Not to mention, this is for a baby who is a few months old. But I can't help myself! And I want to make it. It's also a free pattern and Lion Brand. ♥

Happy Friday!

In case you are wondering, my life is not always filled with drama. Sometimes, really good things happen. Like next Saturday, I'm standing in a wedding. For 2 of my best friends. And I'm the "Maid of Honor."

C bought me a gorgeous dress to wear for the rehearsal. Because it's going to be a very dressy event and she's such a sweet person. So I've got this beautiful chocolatey, bronze number to wear. And I was wondering about what to do with my hair and makeup. M is doing all of our hair and makeup, but I was looking for some ideas.

During my break just now, I went to Carly's blog to take a look. I was hoping to find something fun. And Carly did not disappoint! I originally found Carly through her YouTube channel. And I just love the makeup that she does!

Today I found this video! And it is perfect for the rehearsal. I sent it to M and she said it's perfect. We've got our makeup look ready for next Friday. Now to find some hair ideas...

Well, I hope you have a great Friday! And if you're a makeup lover, take a look at this video. You will enjoy it! I promise. Happy Friday! ♥

Life is Funny...

One minute someone is telling me hurtful and awful things. My heart is broken into a million pieces. And I'm just drained. Physically and emotionally. Then I walk into church. A place that I feel so safe and loved in, and start to feel better. My heart and soul begin to heal.

I go to mass during the week. At least twice, sometimes 3 times. And it makes me feel better. All of a sudden, people aren't judging me. They're loving me. I'm surrounded by God and people that really do love me. Not because they have to, but because they want to. At the end of the day, I can say that much. My friends love me. And their kids, there is nothing I'd rather see than those smiling little faces.

As I felt emotionally spent and completely exhausted, I turned to God tonight and asked him for patients, his love, his knowledge, guidance, and a little faith. I needed it. I know people say things without thinking them through. But it doesn't make them hurt any less. Words are powerful. And they sting.

But tonight, when I walked into church, I was met with a hug from Papa Rene. And these smiling little faces that I love so much! Welcomed into the pew where my friends sat. And I was surrounded by love. Love that is much needed and Welcomed. I forget how important love is. And a night like tonight, it was Welcomed and needed.

The words we heard in mass, were powerful. And about love and forgiveness. Very fitting for the day I had. Holding babies, who tightly grasped my fingers, and feeling hugs from little girls, it just helped to heal my soul and my heart even more. :)

I didn't grow up with this kind of love and affection. And forget very easily, just how important it is. But tonight, God sent me all this love. Because he knew, I needed it. I needed it as much as I needed air. And the big bear hug from Memo, well it's the kind of hug I wish I could get from my own Dad.

At the end of mass, like every mass I go to, Papa Rene hugs each of us individually. And blesses us. I got an extra little prayer tonight. I think he just knew I needed it. And Memo invited us all over for dinner. But I was spent. As much as I needed my friends, I needed some rest too. Memo understood.

He slipped me $10 to go pick up something to eat. And told me to go home and rest. Isn't that such a "Dad" thing to do? I think so. I skipped my grocery shopping. Drove to get a burrito and came home.

I spent 30 minutes watching the birds and eating. Trying to remind myself of all the good things I have in life. Of all the good that God has sent my way. Remembering how strong I am. And how much I've survived. There has to be a reason I'm still here. And then I get that call. From the tiny little voice that I love so very much. And heart just grew with love. It was Sarita.

My dear Goddaughter who is fighting for her life. She called because she told me that she knew her Nana needed some love tonight. Her "Angel" had told her that. She definitely put a smile on my face. And we talked for almost an hour. About 'Rella and Papa Memo. About the birdies and what we are going to do when she comes home. I miss her. And I now realize, there are more important things in life. Beginning and ending with the people that really matter. The ones that make your life better, simply by knowing them.

I know that. I've always known that. My little angel reminded me of that tonight. No matter how hard life gets, you can't give up. If Sarita can fight cancer, I can fight all these things that are coming at me. But most of all, I've learned how powerful love is. We just know when someone needs our love. Don't be afraid to pick up the phone and tell someone just how much you love them. It might just make their day! ♥

Overload of Emotions

It's crazy! Today was supposed to be all about me signing papers. The papers that would say, if anything were to happen to S and D, Maribel would become my daughter. Yes, I'm her Nana. And her parents asked me to take her in case anything were to happen to them. They asked A to take Marissa and Mariella. And they asked us if we could co-parent the girls. We are both very honored that they trust us so very much!

It was a big day. Later in the summer, they'll do the same for their new twins. They'll go with their respective Godparents. And it was a big day. I felt a HUGE surge of responsibility. Like one day, Maribel could possibly be mine. I hope I don't screw this up! She is their daughter, and I want to do the best I can. How on Earth do they think I can do this? I guess people see more good in me, than I see in myself.

And that my friends, was supposed to be the emotional day I was to have. Ending with a quick lunch and me heading back to work. But someone out there in the universe, thinks I need more emotion. And they sent me truck loads today. It began when I returned to work after lunch. And Dr. S was all up on me. Because he received his paperwork that I will be finished with my internship on July 9, 2010.

Why? You probably want to know that. Well, I was supposed to be done with it back in May. I'm dead broke. I have no money. And I actually have to pay for my internship. I don't get paid a red cent! But I've managed. At least, thus far. Now, our gigs are farther and farther apart. The little bit of money I make working for J goes to me getting better physical and mentally. The whole computer dying...well it didn't help my bank account either. It leaves me with no money for school. Much less an internship that costs nearly $8000 a semester.

I had managed to save up some money. Some money I was going to use for my Fall tuition. But Dr. S and the Dean of Ag managed to talk me into just one more semester of my internship. I wasn't sure. But when Dr. S agreed to pay for my insurance. And the Dean threw in $500, well I couldn't say no. How could anyone?

So I pitched in my almost $1200. Dr. M bought my scrubs. And I borrowed the rest from J. I knew it was a temporary fix. But it allowed me a few more weeks on the job. And that, I couldn't resist. I know there are many people pulling for me to succeed. But sometimes, the desire, passion, and talent are not enough. I just can't do this anymore. I have no money. So the next semester for my internship begins July 12, 2010. I won't be there. Therefore, I'm forfeiting the remainder of my internship.

It saddens my heart to no end. I cried for weeks knowing that it was coming. But there is nothing left for me to do. Not a darn thing. Believe me, I've tried. But I just don't feel right asking my parents to help me. And I can't possibly borrow another cent from J. He's too good of a friend.

So today, instead of Rounds, I sat in Dr. S's office and got yelled at. For 3 hours. I tried to keep it together. But the tears came. I couldn't hold them back. Because this is what I want to do with my life. I just don't have the means to do it. I respect Dr. S to the ends of the Earth. He has made me the "Doctor-in-training" that I am. And now, Dr. S is mad and disappointed in me. And in a few short weeks, I won't work in the hospital. And I won't work with my kiddos...

It was bad. I cried. I couldn't look at Dr. S for the rest of the day. My heart broke every single time I saw one of my patients. This is what I was put on Earth to do. Be a pediatrician. But I can't do it. When it came time to leave, I was slightly relieved. And looked forward to a peaceful evening...

Then I'm on my way home. It's been a hell of a day! And I just want 5 minutes of peace before I have to go to church. My Dad calls. He never calls me. I have to call them. And if I don't call every single day, it's like having to face God and Satan at the same time. I usually call my parents when I get home from work. So this was HUGE surprise! And my Dad never really talks to me on the phone. Our conversations usually go,


Dad: "Hi. How are you? How's the weather? How was work?"
Me: "Hi Dad. It's hot. Really hot. Work was work. I'm on my way home. How's your leg?"
Dad: "It's hot as hell here. My legs OK."


Then I usually hear him ask my Mom if she wants to talk to me. We will usually talk for 30 minutes to an hour. But not today. Dad was pissed. I could just tell. And he talked. And said all these sideways comments. And I knew he was mad. And I was already all emotional. My eyes still stung from crying earlier. And it really was hot in my car. I was trying to make the hour drive home. That was quickly turning into 90 minutes because of construction and traffic. Oh the heat was bad!

And my Dad kept on and on and on. I knew he was mad. Then I said something about having to go to the store after mass. He just blew up on me. I pulled over. Because, well, no need to cause an accident as my Dad is telling me off. Over what? Because I need to go buy some water. Sorry, but we're in the middle of an extreme heat wave. In case he's forgotten, I don't have AC at home. I might be the only one in the entire Borderland without AC. I need some water.

Yes, all I mentioned was that I needed to go pick up some water. And maybe some groceries. Because you know, I get hungry from time to time too. Lord help me for needing to eat and stay cool. And he just went off. Honestly, a few bucks is not going to make or break me at this point. I have no money. What's $2 in water? And maybe $10 in groceries. But I made the fatal error of mentioning a trip to Costco with J tomorrow...

That's when the yelling began, and my tears just flowed. Why does he have to constantly yell? Shouldn't he be happy that I have someone to lean on a little here? I don't have a Costco card because I can't afford it. And honestly, I only need to go maybe once a year to buy some toilet paper and laundry soap. So what's the big deal? My Dad has known that for over 2 years, I haven't had a card. And I've never asked him for one. I know he gets them for his employees. But I don't need one. Not for 1-2 trips a year. He just started yelling at me because of J. Would it be so bad if a good man like J wanted to take care of me? Apparently so...

At this point, I guess I'm not good enough to be a happy person. I should be miserable at home. And no, it's not OK for anyone, especially a man, to lend me a helping hand. Funny thing is, I don't lean on anyone. I might cry a little when things get bad. And yes, I'm not going to lie, I go to J or Memo to talk about things. And well, yes, I usually cry too. But it's not like J is doing anything for me other than being my friend.

But honestly, tomorrow, I'm meeting J to pick up a thing of toilet paper, some laundry soap, and maybe some tuna. And if I don't find water again tonight, I might buy some tomorrow. It's not that big of a deal. But to my Dad, it sure as hell was. And he yelled and yelled. And told me how ungrateful I am. And why is he even living because no one appreciates him anyhow. Um, Dad, you taught me to stand on my own 2 feet. To not need anyone, to do things for myself. I'm just trying to do that. And grow up. But he just yelled. Which made me cry...

And why was that? Because I try so hard to make him proud. And I try so hard to be financially independent. And I can't do it anymore. And I'm falling apart here. And I don't want to burden my parents. And I most certainly don't want to disappoint them either! But my Dad doesn't see it that way. I don't do enough in his eyes. I'm dropping the ball everywhere he's concerned. And why in the hell am I spending my own money on some of life's necessities?

I had to remind him that I'm 27 years old. I've lived on my own since I was 18. And I need to do these things. Whether or not I struggle, it's part of growing up. Hell, most people in my family, at my age, have at least 3 kids. But here I am, trying to make it through college, and everything I do is wrong.

Well, the fight with me was interrupted by some other fight. With who? I have no clue. But he hung up on me. And there I was. On the side of the highway, crying. Because my Dad just doesn't get it. Maybe my 59 year old brother is OK with being a full time mooch. But I'm not. And if I have to leave school for a while, and live off of boiled macaroni, and sweat all summer long...well I will.

And no matter how much yelling Dr. S does, I can't responsibly sign up for another semester of school. And no matter if I have no food, I will never go to my parents for a handout. Because I'm an adult. I have to stand on my own 2 feet. That's what responsible adults do.

And then I think about earlier today. 2 of my very best friends are trusting to raise their daughter, if they are not here to do it. So I must not be a bad person. They have to see some good in me to trust me with someone as special, loving, and as important as Maribel is. That right there, softens my heart a little. And reminds me, there is good in this life.

Now it's time for me to go. Or I'll be late to mass. And tonight of all nights, I need some love from God. And my favorite little girls. I'm proud to me their Tia/Nana. And big hug from Memo wouldn't be so bad either. He really is like a father figure to me. And Bless your soul if you made it this far. You really have a special place in my heart, simply for caring this much. ♥

It Hurts Too Much

Have you ever heard that saying,
"If you love them, then let them go. If they love you, they'll come back to you."

I've heard that a hundred different times, a hundred different ways. But if pretty much means the same thing. I loved my friend, S with all my heart. Not in a romantic way, which caused a lot of friction, between a lot of people. But I loved him nonetheless. We met when I came to college. He was the first person to introduce themselves to me. I had been in school for almost 3 weeks when we met.

I showed up to a rehearsal that I had missed for the first 2 1/2 weeks of school. Because the times and days had been changed. And no one thought to post a note or anything. It took me going to the Dean's Office, to find out where and when this class was.

And like the good little student I am, I was 30 minutes early. With my homework for another class. I sat at a table, completely immersed in music theory. Not realizing that my fellow musicians were slowly pouring into the room. And when I looked up, Mr. Casanova himself was standing right in front of me. His arm was making it's way around my shoulders, to hug me. "Hi. My name is S. You must be new around here." Um, I didn't know what to say. But I knew instantly, I was in trouble.

Probably because every female in the room was hot for him. And I knew it instantly. Secondly, who in the heck comes up and gives you a hug when you are first meeting? In case you're wondering, I'm not a hugger! In fact, I enjoy personal space. A lot!

But S was persistent. I have to give him that much. By the end of rehearsal, he had written his phone number on the side of my music. Had sang one of my favorite songs, which left me almost unable to play. And invited me to go out to eat with a bunch of the other musicians.

Over the next few weeks, we became good friends. We saw each other at rehearsal twice a week. And I noticed S was in my building a lot more. I knew he wasn't majoring in the same field as I was, so I wasn't sure what that was all about. His best friend, G and his girlfriend L, they also quickly became friends with me. Before long, we were the 4 Musketeers. Sharing meals, laughing at S, and becoming friends. In fact, we even shared tears. That was the year that our entire world changed...9/11 happened.

These were people that I could trust. That understood when you only have $5 to your name. And who shared my passion for our culture...and music. I was asked to join a group that the guys played in, and the rest is history. In the next 3 years, we went to hell and back together. We would scrap up our nickels and dimes to eat beans and rice together. And then pack up our bags to fly across the country to perform. The guys and I traveled the same 40 something miles at least 8 times a week.

There came the big shows that we performed in. All the traveling. Even my lost luggage. We got through it all. And they even helped me get through some of my darkest days. My car accident. I'm still amazed that I survived that! When 2 very important ladies in my life were facing death. And my friends were there to hold me as God called 4 of my family members back to heaven. It was tough, but I always had my friends to lean on.

I'm the youngest of my friends. And when we all were asked to join the professional ranks of music, I knew I couldn't go. But I wanted for my friends to live out their dreams. Heck, S and I always talked about making it big one day. About working hard when we were young. And then, one day, walking away from it all to have a family. At that point in my life, S was the only person that really knew a lot about me. I had never shared a whole lot with people. I was used to being alone. But he knew me.

Even across the country, you couldn't keep these 2 good friends apart. We emailed, MySpaced, IM'd, video chatted, and talked on the phone. I flew across country to be in G and L's wedding. I loved every minute of being with my friends. And when S called me looking for advice, it was me that pushed him to chase his dream.

That was probably when things started to go wrong. I wasn't doing so well. He knew it. But I also knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity for him. So I wished my friends well, and they began touring all over the world. I would get random gifts, letters, and pictures from everywhere...Japan, Italy, Spain, etc. And I was so excited for my friends.

But I was also miserable at home. I was trying to find my way. Trying to just make it. Struggling financially. Trying to stay afloat in every way I could. Let me tell you, it wasn't going so well. And then, I met Mr. "Southern Boy" himself. It was random. I was performing in Las Vegas. With the band. He happened to be there with some friends. It was a "Guys' Weekend" for them. I was just trying to make some money to pay for my books.

That chance meeting, turned into an amazing friendship. I think I've finally met someone who gets me. Again, I'm not looking for a romantic relationship. But this is someone who understands how I grew up. Who can understand feeling this alone in life. He gets that money isn't everything. That most of the time, it just means more problems. He gets that.

This man, became my friend. A good friend. Someone that I call when life is just so stinking miserable, that I don't want to get out of bed. Before long, I think he was making up gigs for our band. Trying to help me out. But it didn't matter. He was my friend. We are a very unlikely pairing of friends. Especially if you know us and know our backgrounds. But we are so similar, you would think we grew up together!

This didn't sit well with S. In fact, it created more problems than I could have ever imagined. S was OK with J. He knew that we were best friends. But this new guy, he was not comfortable with him. At all! And before I knew it, a storm was brewing. An evil one.

I'm that girl. The one that has a bunch of guy friends. But I'm also the one that is always trying to set them up. But I'm that girl. I work with nothing but guys. My best friends are guys. I just feel more comfortable with male friends. I don't have to worry about a whole lot when it comes to them. They just like to enjoy life. And they are extra security when I need it. Like the big brothers that I never really had.

Over the summer, S and I had a blow out fight. The kind that leaves you sick in your stomach. J felt bad about. In fact, I was mad at both of them. For a while. S mad me so incredibly mad. Because he made me second guess myself. I started questioning my actions. And I don't do that. He wanted me to himself. I was feeling like a possession. And I wasn't having it. We had a horrible fight the day before our friends' wedding. The kind of fight that had me yelling at him, while I stood in my driveway, shoes in my hand. I was so mad.

And I left. I got in my car, and I drove. We didn't talk for the rest of the weekend. Not 1 word to each other. That was it. Not even 2 months later, he was back. For my Goddaughter's birthday. Acting liking a fool. An older friend of ours, someone that is like a dad, also had a huge fight with him. I later found out why. And it had something to do with me. But that wasn't it. He was really looking for a fight.

And sure enough he got it. We were in rehearsal. Getting ready for a gig for the "Southern Boy." S was going to go with us. And I was late to rehearsal. Which was normal. I had to work at the hospital until late. And when I walked into rehearsal, you could feel the tension. Then, S started with the little remarks. And the "Southern Boy" wasn't having it. Neither were the guys in the band. And before I knew it, S was laying on the ground. The "Southern Boy" had just punched him. I'm going to spare you the details. But it wasn't good!

He left that night. And that was the last I had heard from him. I hadn't seen him. Or talked to him. I was really disappointed that my friendship, could take such a turn for the worst. G kept wanting to talk to me. But the time was never right. Until last night.

S, G, L, and I sat down for a talk. Actually, it started out just S and I. But before long 2 turned into 4 turned into 8. And I already knew what was coming. Way before it came. I just knew it. I had known for a while. Just by the way that G had been acting. I don't own S. And never wanted to. I in fact, wanted him to find an amazing woman out there, while he was traveling. But things went, um a little nuts. And G didn't appreciate it. Especially when I was the one catching all the hell. For something I didn't do.

To sum it up, S and I must have yelled at each other for a good 6 hours. I don't even know. We got it all out there. It's all on the table. No skeletons to hide. I had to actually physically protect him from some of our friends. I didn't want to. But I feared what might have happened if I didn't.

I didn't leave on a good note. In fact, it will be a miracle if we ever speak again. There were too many things said. Things that should have never left either of our mouths. But it's done. And I'm not sure I want to fight for this friendship any longer. I know, it sounds selfish and cruel. But sometimes, these things don't work. Even with the best of intentions.

I'm starting to second guess my ability to even have a good friendship. People who I've treasured as friends, they're the ones that have hurt me the worst. Off the top of my head, I can name 5 close friends, whose friendships have gone up in smoke. In the last 3 or 4 years! It's sad. Maybe it's me. Maybe I just trust the wrong people.

But it just hurts, deep down in my heart. I think it's time to close up my heart. At least for a little while. And let it heal. My poor heart, and soul, have been taking a beating lately. I'm raw inside. Left without the ability to show or share my emotions and feelings. I just think it's time for me to heal. To allow myself to love the person that I am. And to be a little selfish, and put myself first, for once in my lifetime. ♥

Making Music

This weekend is one of those super busy ones. The kind that at first glance, you get really excited for. 2 weeks ago, I couldn't wait for this weekend. Because it's a holiday weekend. Then I realized I was going to be working all weekend. And I was playing in the symphony. Don't forget Emma's baptismo. It's very busy!

But as I quickly got dressed last night, I got really excited. It all of a sudden came rushing at me. I'm playing in the symphony again! OK, I'm going to be honest, it's not my favorite place to play. But I do enjoy it. A lot! There is just something about putting on your "Concert Black" and knowing you are going to be playing in a beautiful theater. It just makes all of your body fill up with love and happiness!

And last night, as I was double checking; making sure I had my passport card, my violin, and everything I would need, I just smiled. Because it might not be the most convenient job that I have. Or the safest. But it's honestly, one of the things I enjoy most. I feel so elegant, alive, and blessed when I take that stage. You are making music with at least 100 other musicians. Taking people back into time. Honoring our past, and building our future.

Music is the only real constant I've had in my life. The thing that I can depend on 100%. The place I go to when life becomes too tough. When I'm happy, I dance to the most lively beats. And when I'm sad, I'm not afraid to cry to the sad notes of years past. Making music is a gift, that I Thank My Dear Lord for every single day! ♥