Thank You Bloggies!

November 22, 2012

I’m thankful to still be alive, despite all the hell I was in this year. I’m thankful for regaining some semblance of mental stability and for my lifelines–little Luna and swimming, this blog, and yes, even my wonderful wacky family who have all been my support as of late. I’m thankful for their unlimited love. I’m thankful that I have a relationship with my brother again. I’m thankful that he has a great girlfriend.

I’m thankful the operation finally went well.

I’m thankful that there was FINALLY a cease fire in Gaza!

I’m thankful for Monkey Man’s ukulele, the best memento I have left from him. Rest in peace my lovely man. I’m thankful I got to know you, to know your love, and I’m thankful that you were in my life you crazy, crazy borderline bastard!

I’m thankful for having had the chance to meet all the amazing people here in bloggie land!

You have all been my lifeline too, more than you know. But…

The true meaning of Thanksgiving.

I kid. I know, I always have to throw in something ironic, cynical and vulgar. But it’s just me and my PLDs (Pretty Little Demons for those of you that don’t know).

Mouse love

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Quince

May 3, 2012

Quince

I was to be transformed
in a room full of cackling
women—
chickens in their
coops,
hair buns under incubators.
Blow driers and
snapping scissors were
drawn.

My hair was planted in rolls on a soil
of ripe skin that stretched my
temples
so far it forced a smile.

I was to receive
guests—an alabaster
carousel of motions
weaving in and out,
kissing
and congratulating.

To be a captain, to sail out;
to be sewn in Italy’s history;
to comb the thick hair of my
Colombia,
and caress the voluptuous curves
of India;
to melt into the night like a swooping
ninja.

That’s what I wanted.

Was a dove to land
above my shoulder
and shower me until I’d
blossom,
then pluck away all
fantasy
and crown me with
maturity?

I was now fifteen.
But no, there was just
a trickle of
indifference.

© Paz 2010
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A quinceañera is a Latin American tradition celebrating a girl’s transition into “womanhood” on her fifteenth birthday. It is a right of passage celebrated in most Latin American countries, though each country has its individual, differing traditions. For example, Colombian quinceañeras, as opposed to Mexican quinceañeras, are mainly celebrated by the wealthy and don’t have “chambalanes” or “damas”, which are a round house of the girl’s friends (like maids of honor) and their male counterparts chosen for the main waltz. In Colombian quinceañeras, only the father, uncle(s) or brother(s) is/are to dance the main waltz with the honored girl.