Resolutions for a Procrastinator

I am the Queen of Procrastination, of the "I will do it tomorrow" crowd, and of the "Was that today?" bunch. In fact, it has taken me three days just to write this post about resolutions which probably is not a good way to start a new year.

A New Year, our one way of delivering ourselves out of mediocrity and make ourselves feel better. Or is it a way to make ourselves start projects that we never entail to finish? I have such a dire outlook on resolutions and not because it is a tradition most deem silly. It is because it puts to light my faults and everything that I have not achieved because of my own fears. I have a fear of failure and of pleasing everyone. A sickening need to please that it stops me dead in my tracks from even attempting to accomplish anything real. I was so proud of everything I had accomplished as a person, a blogger, and a aspiring writer until I received a rejection.

That was the one rock too many and I began to drown in my own self loathing. I stopped writing and went back and forth on whay I did it in the first place? Why did I want to write? Was it a part of me that I couldn't ignore or was it just because I felt I could achieve it?

Writing is such a fickle community where you are judged on everything and anything. Where someone deems your story unfit and unworthy? Even if you have a beautifully written novel does not make it marketable.

In 2012, I want to regain my self confidence. I would like to respect myself as an an artist. I want to start a non profit and create a local Literary Festival. I would like to take a business course and some art classes. I just want to find me. I am nearly 30 and am a totally different person now. Who is this person and how can she become better?

Resolutions, eh, I have all year right?

Jessie

It's cold in Texas?

After a grueling summer where it felt as though Texas was burning to the ground, it has finally turned into winter or fall. I suppose it would just depend on your standards. It is a chilly 60 degrees here in South Texas. It is crazy how amazing the weather is and hopefully we will have a cold Christmas. It just seems like Christmas when it's cold.

We can make hot chocolate while waiting for the menudo to finish cooking. I am actually feeling in the mood to write. It is too cold to go outside for us thin skinned Texans who are used to sunny days. But, I hope everyone else has a wonderful Monday. I know I will.

Jessie

Monday Madness: Is December here yet?

I am anxiously awaiting for December. A bitter sweet rememberence of my family traditions cling to my soul, my skin, and my heart. My grandmother, mother, and my son all have birthdays in December.

My son was born during the Winter Solstice. December was always filled with the scents of ground cinnamon and fresh hot chocolate. We not only had atole but homemade Abuelita chocolate. Nestle sells the chocolate already prepared in small disks but I fondly remember Abuela making Te de Canela (Cinnamon Tea) for the chocolate.

We also made fried tortillas that were covered in cinnamon and sugar called Bunuelos. Everything we did was together in a house filled with family. A house filled with laughter, music, and the smells of spiced pork and sweet cookie dough. A place where my tias and abuela used to talk chisme (gossip) and where I stood outside on a cool Texas winter day and looked up into the clear night sky at the moon. In the darkness, with the moon and the stars, I wondered about those before us and what they thought staring up into those stars?

Yesterday, I placed upon our entryway my grandmother's old garland which I decorated with poinsiettas and old Christmas ornaments. I also place my nativity set up on our entertainment center. Abuela used to have these huge lawn pieces that were the Nativity scene along with a set of Santa Claus and the Reindeer.

It was a blissful union of our religious obligations that coincided with the cultural celebration of Christmas. The essence of December fills me with joy as I realize tha my culture is so deeply connected to its faith. It is hard to untangle the faith and the person sometimes. I am not talking just Christian based faith but the indiginous aspects of our culture such as the dark skinned Virgen de Guadalupe and our San Juan Diego.

December is filled with memories and happiness. I am planning on making it special for my kids now that my son knows what Christmas is.

Felicidas!

Have a Great December!

Jessie

Thanksgiving Traditions

Thanksgiving Eve is here and it is cool on the bay. At least a breezy 65, and the city is starting to shut down slowly, only to open early tomorrow for those of us who have forgotten our last minute items like pumkin pie filling and probably alcohol. I have felt a little bothered by Thanksgiving. It feels like a forced holiday to me and being a Catholic, thanksgiving is about the mass. However,who am I to judge the idea of what this holiday means when to me it is just another day.

My abuelo cooked a Barbacoa head on thanksgiving in a dug out hole filled with red hot mesquite embers. It smoked in that hole for four hours or even overnight. Alongside the stuffing we had frijoles and arroz. Pan de Campo and bread rolls. It was our tradition to bring in something that reminded us of who we were. As I look back, I wonder if Abuelo was trying to hold onto who he was in the midst of assimilation.

I wonder if I am still trying to hold onto a piece of who I am in the midst of the same forced assimilation. I try to hold my head up drowning in the waters of life,desperately trying to make it to shallower shores. But, despite it all, I am thankful.

I am thankful for my husband to have been able to find a job after being pink slipped. I am thankful for those of you who read and follow my blog. That means more to me then you can ever imagine. I am grateful for the people who happen to come to my site and hope they appreciate the little corner of my world.

I am thankful for my twitter friends and their funny and thoughful messages.
I am thankful for my familia and the memories they have given me over the years.

 Most importantly, I am thankful to not have forgotten my mixed roots. Mis raices that connect me forever to Aztlan. They connect me to my abuelos and to my great grandparents, and to a past that is beautiful. I long to know more about who I am and where we came from.

Do not forget the indiginous people who died when the conquistadors came, when Columbus landed, and when the "Pilgrims" landed.

Jessica

Monday Madness: The Hanger

Here's Jessie...

I know you have been itching for a new Monday Madness post about my little ole town nestled along the bay. Today is the day I tell you of "The Hanger".

 It has been rumored that hidden behind the artificial red rubber track and green fields of the infamous Cabaniss Fields is a Hanger. An old airport hanger, I assume.

Big E once told me a story of the hanger that lay among the high grass of the now vacant lots. Despite all my curiosity, he still won't take me there to get a picture.

This is my version so don't ruin it.

Hung slightly askew on the gates is a sign that reads "Honk for service", so one night Big E and a few friends decided it would be fun to honk. Two sharp blasts of the horn and they waited outside of the truck.

In the summer breeze, they heard clapping. As if a whole contingent of people were cheering in this hanger, and they listened as the closed metal doors began to screech as if struggling to be pulled apart.

Big E ran, hopped in the truck, and drove off. He never said if he saw anything but he won't take me to see. So, if you stop by the hanger. Honk and see who comes to help you.

Jessie

I can't be silent for long...

I recently contemplated how much information to divulge here about my personal strife but since I did a Staph Infection post, I mean come on. Seriously, though October and November have been Evil by Stepmother standards of course.

Big E, my husband, was recently shall we say "Downsized". Our future for a little while was about as cozy as being chased down the street by Michael Myers. I hate not having control over my future and it affects my writing. I am not a "tortured" soul kinda artist who craves pain to in order to write their bleak, depressing great work. I mean a little torment okay but dang straddling uncertainity with two children was tough. I just couldn't write without a stray curse word flying into the post or wip. I mean a random " Yeah, some f-ing freedom if I don't pay than what" would pop up in my writing.

Stress is an evil wench bent on making me fat even if she isn't physically forcing me to eat that damn chocolate. It just blotted out the pain. Until one day, I looked at my life and realized I was okay. Everything would work out even if I am slightly over dramatic and lose my mind temporarily of course. I am not a failure because I am not published or am slightly unknown. Okay, more than slightly.

I am not a failure because I didn't get a fancy degree and I am only a writer plus a new Domesticated Goddess. Though, I am not that domestic. I sit here avoiding dish duty. I hate my house without a dishwasher.

 Besides, I can't stay away for long anyway.

Goodbye

I am having some serious personal stuff happening in my life right now and am no longer going to be posting to this blog. I am going radio silent so to speak. I may be back in the Spring, hopefully.


Jessie